


Metal & Coffee

by Writers_411



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Anxiety, Betrayal, Chicago (City), Crimes & Criminals, Cussing, Depression, Depressive Moods, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Making Love, Making Out, Metal Band AU, Metal band, Mobsters, Music, Other, Queer Character, Singing, Suicidal Ideation, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 50,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26944963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writers_411/pseuds/Writers_411
Summary: Kagome is a woman working part-time jobs, spending most hours at the new Spiffy coffee shop. She’s not looking for any drama, not after Kikyo broke her heart. With her life in constant motion, Kagome still strives to finish her novel and be a good mother. Inuyasha is the lead member of Tetsaiga, a rising metal band of misfits. He wants to get his band into the top five to prove something to his old man and to himself after his shattering break up. The hard blend of coffee and metal has yet to reveal the intertwined future in its swirls, but Inuyasha and Kagome are determined to get past the rearing heads of their pasts that set their teeth into their lives.
Relationships: Ayame/Kagura (InuYasha), Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha, Miroku/Sango (InuYasha)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	1. Fresh Brew

His arms were out as the crowd roared. Their voices were the leviathan’s battle cry, raging from deep under the sea. The tattoos on his skin were interlocking myths and names long forgotten. His bright silver hair was dampened, and he gasped as if the drops poured directly into his lungs. His fangs were pointed, while his tongue grazed the air alongside his growling husk. His every breath was an ask for permission to continue this night. The dying chords of the guitars rang in his doggy ears as the cymbal fizzled, dying. 

It was the night he’d forget. He’d forget her. Finally.

**llllllllll**

She stayed up in the night, leaning against the doorframe of her son’s bedroom. The Chicago weather shook the walls slightly, but it didn’t disturb him. Her boy was small for his age, but he was sunshine on two small feet. Her lips parted in awe and admiration as her son snuggled deeper into the soft blanket’s she’d bought him. He’d told her he had liked those blankets and that they’d help him float away from the bad dreams. So there he was, on a cloud, and sleeping as if the dark hadn’t consumed him before. 

Of course, she knew. She’d heard him, and he’d clung to her thick black hair as if it were the last lifeline between himself and the ground they shared. 

This was it. He’d forget the faces that stared and the eyes that had never looked at him with love for weeks now. He’d forget them all. Finally.

**llllllllll**

Inuyasha skimmed through the feed on his Twitter account, looking for any updates from the Hit Band Battle competition. His thumb claw tapped impatiently on the screen. The chipping black nail polish on his claws reminded him that he had to get them repainted for the upcoming concert in a couple of days. His black jeans were tight around his ankles and got looser around his hips, where a chain belt held them up. He wore a red crop top that showed off his tight abdominals, and his leather jacket helped his already muscular shoulders frame his trunk. His thick eyebrows were arched and pierced on the left side, and his silver hair reached farther than the middle of his back. His sloppy bangs hung in his face, and he had to jerk his head to get the hair out of his eyes just to see.

When nothing came up, he sighed and tossed his phone onto the wooden coffee table. He ran his hands down his face and slouched back onto the beat-up red couch. The flat-screen television hanging on the wall reflected the neat state of his apartment. The kitchen was right behind him, and above it was his bedroom. The kitchen was small, but it had what he needed. The bedroom didn’t have any real walls, so if he had company, he couldn’t get down and dirty if he wanted to. A staircase against the far wall led up to his bedroom, but he hardly used them as he liked to jump up. 

His dog ears twitched as his phone signaled he had incoming text messages. He figured they would be from the band’s group chat, so he didn’t immediately reply. Instead, Inuyasha let his arms flop at his sides and thought about their next move. So far, his band Tessaiga was still not in the top ten metal bands in the country, and Inuyasha couldn’t figure out how else to break through. If they broke the top ten, then they’d get attention in magazines, media feeds, and exclusive deals with companies like Nike, Starbucks, or even Apple. They’d be so much closer to becoming legendary in the metal genre. Then, he could get his old man off his back.

Why does he give a fuck about me? Inuyasha thought. I’m not even a full demon. 

It was a bitter truth. He was half-human. His father had a child, him, out of wedlock with Izayoi, a human woman whom The Inu no Taisho had met at a library. Yeah, his mother had been a librarian. Well, she still was a librarian, and she worked for the nearby university. 

The sound of Inuyasha’s phone ringing caught the half-demon’s attention. Speak of the devil, he thought. The ID and picture were of Izayoi herself: she was smiling with a crinkle in her eyes and a mouth full of bright teeth as she had one hand on a pile of books.  _ Mom _ . He scooped up the phone and answered it without putting it close to his ear. He didn’t need to.

“Hey, mom,” greeted Inuyasha with a smile. “Did you need something? Did you forget your lunch again? Should I get you something?” Chicago was a big city; he’d enjoy getting deep dish pizza to surprise his mom with. 

Izayoi giggled on the other side of the phone. “No, no,” she replied. Her voice was soft and slightly deep with old wisdom. “I was calling to check in on you. I haven’t seen you in a month. Are you back in town?”

Inuyasha immediately sat up and said, “Yeah, we just got in last night.”

“Saw your band did so well,” said Izayoi. A librarian kept up with a lot, and his mother was tech-savvy. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

A smile crept on Inuyasha’s face. “Thanks, mom,” he replied. He looked up at the clock hanging just beside his tv. “I can buy dinner tonight if you’re not busy.”

He could practically feel the smile through the phone, and Inuyasha wanted to see his mom. “Won’t you be with your girlfriend tonight?” asked Izayoi. The smooth gliding of books onto a stack caught his attention and made his ear flick. 

Inuyasha wanted to crush his phone. His fingers twitched and pressed at the edges, making the hot purple case creak. Of course, it wouldn’t break. He’d had it custom made. He pursed his lips and sank back on his sofa. It’d been six months since the breakup, and it’d been two months since he had last cried himself into a stupor. 

“No,” he got out. The parting of his heart must’ve been in his voice. His mother would catch it.

The intake of Izayoi’s voice wasn’t hard to miss. “You broke up,” she said in disbelief. “Oh, baby, are you okay? Why haven’t you said anything about it?”

Inuyasha swallowed thickly before blinking away old emotions churning in his chest and bubbling at the pit of his throat. “She didn’t feel the same about me anymore,” he explained, “and I didn’t see it coming… I… I just didn’t want to think about it anymore.” He combed his fingers through his hair. 

“Oh sweetheart,” cooed Izayoi. “Do you need me to come over?” There was no more movement on her end, and her attentive silence was deafening as it was warm. She’d always been like that. Ever since he was a kid, Izayoi had never pushed aside his feelings and had never made him swallow his emotions. He’d learned that last bit on his own; it’d been bitter.

“Oh, you know what,” said Inuyasha, feeling a weight in his belly at the fib on his lips, “I actually forgot that I told the band I’d go over the logistics of the concert with them tonight… I’m sorry.” He clenched his teeth, hoping that she’d not hear the truth beneath his lie.

There was a short huff on the phone, and Inuyasha could already see her face. Her eyes would exude calm, while her lips betrayed the very worry her eyes hid. “If you don’t want to talk about what happened,” said his mother, “I understand.” The wheels of her chair kneaded the poor tile in her office, and Inuyasha hated that sound: Izayoi was slumped in her chair. “Just don’t bottle it up. It’s not good for you.”

Inuyasha dipped his chin with a frown deep on his face. Of course. His mother was no demon, but the woman was sharp beyond all reason. “I’ll tell you later,” he said, unsure if it was another lie or a promise.

“I love you,” said Izayoi. 

Every time she said those words, Inuyasha remembered when she’d told him as a kid that they were a life long promise. She’d promise them every day, and she’d said that she’d owe him hundreds of thousands when her time ended. He didn’t believe in her end. 

“I love you, too, mom,” said Inuyasha. 

They hung up.

**llllllllll**

Kagome smiled brightly at Shippo as he practiced playing the saxophone for his music class. He was in eleventh grade, but he was much younger than most kids. He was one of those kid geniuses that people liked to gush about on Facebook or Twitter. Kagome didn’t do that. She cheered for him in the audience during concerts and at home.

Shippo was nine. He always wore a fox onesie, despite being a fox demon, and preferred his silverware and drinking cup to the left of his plate whenever he ate. His pointed ears were always covered by his short bright hair, and his pearly eyes were always watching and analyzing. 

The saxophone made a humble sound and soul searching melody when in Shippo’s hands. He made it work, all of it. The size of the instrument bowed down to his small hands and powerful lungs, worked from wailing most of the days when he’d been a baby. He’d been a miracle: full-blooded demons usually hadn’t come from human women, much less human women with spiritual powers. 

Shippo was her pride, her joy.

Kagome watched him turn away from the pages of music and just feel. The awkward white walls of their apartment melted away. The wooden floor seemed irrelevant, and the modest furniture around them seemed translucent. Her son did that, all with one instrument. 

She snapped out of her daze and looked herself over, checking she had her uniform on and her purse. Kagome glanced over at the little mirror on the wall; her thick dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders and large bust. The uniform shirt had a collar that was buttoned up and awkwardly stretched across her thick waist, and the pants stretched across her wide hips and thick thighs. She’d wear an apron in the kitchen later, so Kagome didn’t worry about the odd fit of the clothing over her thick form. 

The room was suddenly quiet, and Kagome heard Shippo sigh. She went to him and saw how tired he looked. “Are you tired, Shippo?” she asked. 

Shippo shook his head. “I’m just trying to get this part right,” he explained. The circles under his eyes told a different story. “I have the solo in a few weeks, and I want to play perfectly for Ivy League recruiters… it could mean a full ride to university. You wouldn’t have to worry about paying anything.”

Kagome’s face softened. She had always thought she’d been clever in talking on the phone after he’d gone to bed, but Shippo had been a demon after all. Of course, he’d hear everything. She knelt next to Shippo’s seat and touched his face, grinning as he nuzzled her palm. 

“You don’t worry about that,” said Kagome earnestly. “Mommy will pay whatever it takes to help you through your school.”

Shippo frowned. “But you’re tired,” he replied. “You don’t get to be at home as much...not since mama Kikyo left.” There seemed to be another name on his lips, but he didn't say a thing.

Kagome felt herself stiffen before she could act neutral. Shippo’s gaze was downcast now. “We don’t worry about Kikyo anymore,” she said in hopes to sound uncaring of her ex-girlfriend. “We worry about team Higurashi.” She knew that wasn’t entirely true, though. Kagome couldn’t forget Kikyo. She couldn’t forget her--not for what she had given--because she couldn’t forgive her. 

Shippo gave a weak smile at the saxophone. “Team Higurashi,” he said. He returned his sight to Kagome. “I’ll keep practicing.” The keys under his fingers clicked as he clutched it. 

“Maybe eat first,” Kagome suggested, knowing Shippo had been practicing for three hours now. “I made you some macaroni and cheese. A whole pot just for you.” She beamed. “And you don’t have to give Uncle Miroku any.”

Shippo stepped back and slipped the saxophone off. Then, he jumped right into his mother’s arms and snuggled into her bosom. “You’re my hero,” he softly said. 

“Always and forever,” replied Kagome. She cuddled Shippo and walked over to the kitchen, where the small kitchen table fit snug in the corner. Their kitchen had little counter space, a stove that came with the apartment, and a fridge that was old but given to them from their old neighbors farther south in the city. 

“Will you get home early tonight?” asked Shippo. “It’s Saturday, so we should go to the park.” He grinned as Kagome came over with a bowl of macaroni and cheese. He immediately dug in with the spoon in his left hand and smeared cheese at the corners of his mouth. 

Kagome tried to keep the smile on her face. “Oh, sweety,” she said as she sat down across from him. “I’ll do my best to get home. It’ll be dark by then, but we can still play a game before you go to bed.” She couldn’t make a promise as her shift ended at 11:30 p.m.

“We’ll team up,” said Shippo with a mouthful of macaroni. He swallowed loudly. “We’ll beat Uncle Miroku in Uno. Once and for all!” His cheeks were puffed from his cheesy smile.

Kagome laughed. “You think we’ll finally get him, huh?” she asked. This was a familiar banter, and Kagome never tired of it. Her son looked forward to her being home and resuming their time together. She always felt like fresh snow when walking through her own front door, and only Shippo brought that out of her. 

The lock to their door clicked. A swing of the door reached their ears, so Kagome and Shippo looked over to see Miroku stepping in and closing that creaky door behind him. Miroku was a tall man at 5’11” with a muscular body type that he built in his Muay Thai practices and gym days. Miroku took off his coat and set it aside, showing off the old gang tattoos on his arms that meshed with the rest of his tattoo sleeves. He wore a simple shirt, black sweatpants, and used up gym shoes. 

“Uncle Miroku!” exclaimed Shippo. He waved his spoon. Some cheese got on his onesie. 

“Hey, squirt!” Miroku returned with as much enthusiasm. He stepped into the kitchen and pinched Shippo’s cheek. “Saw the saxophone. You working these cheeks to the bare gums again?”

“It’s more than just cheeks, uncle,” Shippo reminded him. Kagome had heard him say that so many times, mostly to Miroku. “My diaphragm, my breaths, my timing…” Shippo continued on.

Miroku lifted his hands in submission as he sank into the other empty chair between Kagome and Shippo. His dark hair appeared freshly cut on the sides and back, allowing for him to have a little bun tied at the top of his head. Kagome asked if he just got a haircut. “I did,” replied Miroku. He eyed Shippo’s bowl, and the little fox demon curled it into his arms, clearly not willing to share. 

“He hasn’t eaten for a while today,” said Kagome. She grinned widely as she watched Miroku tease Shippo and poke at him, while Shippo whined playfully and shoved more macaroni into his face. Her eyes landed on his tattoos. The memories that accompanied them weren’t always pleasant, but with each one, there was a moment that Kagome and Miroku supported each other. That’s the way it’s always been, ever since they’d met back in middle school. 

They were both twenty-nine now.

“Just you watch, Shippo,” Miroku said in a mock menacing voice. “When you least expect it, I’ll swoop in and take thine macaroni.” He wiggled his fingers with a clownish pucker of his lips. 

Kagome giggled heartily and shook her head. “Well, boys,” she said, “I got to go.”

“Be careful on your way to work,” said Miroku. He accepted a hug around his shoulders from Kagome, who flicked his bun before stepping away.

“I’ll see you soon,” said Shippo. 

Kagome bent over and kissed the top of his head. “You be good for your uncle, and practice your Uno,” she said with a smile. “We’ll get him tonight.”

“Yes!” hooted Shippo. 

“Challengers are always welcome to come for my crown,” boasted Miroku with a grandiose puff of his chest. “None have bested me.”

“Just you wait!” started Shippo.

Kagome patted his head and left her son and best friend bantering at the kitchen table. She took the CTA to work. Many people have told her how much they dreaded the buses and trains, but not Kagome. She liked it. It gave her time to sit in those blue seats and watch the city engulf her presence. The towers of downtown were magnificent and promised so much with a delivery that seemed magical in various unique ways. For Kagome, it encouraged her to be a storm. That storm manifested in the open word document on her smartphone, and her thumbs were a blur as she wrote and wrote. There was nothing to stop her. Until her stop came.

Kagome worked at Spiffy Coffee, a shop just on the northern lip of Chicago’s crown. The shop was near the Gold Coast, and the shop goers were very much from there. Spiffy’s sign had a cartoonish coffee cup with the shop’s name running across it. The building was tall, but the shop remained tucked at the bottom, and people had to walk down some stairs to get inside. The inside was a swirl of reds and yellows with bits of oranges. The tables were all white with black chairs. The service counter was long with options of baked goods and candies to choose from. There was a chalkboard wall with all of the coffees, teas, lemonades, sandwiches, and milk teas to choose from. 

Spiffy was a jack of all trades when it came to caffeine, and it was a quality that allowed Kagome to enjoy working there. 

Kagome clocked in and set her things aside in her locker, which was lined outside the manager’s office. She slipped on an apron and went to the safe zone, the kitchen. Kagome’s job was baking, and she did mighty fine at it. It was here that she honed her bread-making skills. People usually asked for more than one bun or cookie, and they were all made from her hand. Any leftover bread and sweets were tucked away and taken home later.

“You’re in early,” came Kagura. She stepped into the kitchen and eyed the scones Kagome was putting together. “Save one of those for me?” Kagura was an average height woman at 5’4” with dark wavy hair and perfect bangs. Kagome had asked her before how’d she got them that way, and Kagura had replied she’d cut them herself. 

“Of course,” replied Kagome. “I’ll save you two if you can score me a frappe.” She smiled as Kagura turned elegantly and adjusted her collar. 

“Caramel with toffee on top?” asked Kagura. Her red eyes were ablaze with humor as she tied up her long hair. Her green earrings dangled from her pointed ears. They were work wives. 

“Extra caramel, please,” replied Kagome as she set to spreading the scones on a large tray for baking. The previous bakes were almost gone, so she’d need these out within the very minute they’re done. 

“You got it, doll,” said Kagura with a wink before she walked through the employee door.

Kagome giggled and snorted before taking up the tray and sliding it into the oven. She closed those doors and turned around to the rest of the kitchen. Jakotsu, the most colorful of them all, twirled about the stoves with grace; not a strand of black hair out of place. Bankotsu was over at the deli part of the kitchen; his long black braid swished behind him as he moved here and there, preparing meats, cheeses, and slicing bread.

Jakotsu spun over toward the kitchen radio and tapped the old thing’s power button. He toggled the switches and got to a pop station that set him to moving his shoulders.

“Not that shit again!” complained Bankotsu. He slapped his towel on the counter. His apron was covered in stains from the meats and marinades. “Play some real music, Jakotsu.”

The other rolled his eyes and replied, “Don’t complain about my music!” He removed several pans from the fire and slid steak chunks into a large baking tray greased and seasoned. The meat was propped in a different oven to cook more. Kagome knew it was the new deli meat that they had to prepare in house, and it was also the most costly. Gold Coast people literally ate it up. 

“That’s not music,” Bankotsu complained. He wiped up his counter space and set a box of parchment paper on the end. “Change the station or turn it off. It was peaceful in here before you turned that shit on.”

“Well, guess what, you big baby,” laughed Jakotsu as he strode over. “Heavy metal isn’t real music, so you’ll have to deal with the vocals of Empress Rihanna.” He leaned against Bankotsu’s clean counter, and the other shooed him off. He snorted while Bankotsu wiped that part of the counter. 

Kagome chuckled. 

“Besides,” added Jakotsu, “Kagome likes Rihanna as much as I do.” He raised a brow at Kagome.

“No,” rebutted Bankotsu, “Kagome has taste.”

“Anyone with taste doesn’t listen to metal.”

“Anyone with taste doesn’t club at work.”

“Kagome,” whined Jakotsu, “tell him Rihanna is staying.”

“Don’t go pulling that bullshit,” said Bankotsu. “Kagome, tell him we got to change the station.”

Kagome wanted to hush them, considering they bickered like children. However, they were her coworkers, and they were her source of entertainment that helped the sweetness of her shift continue. Jakotsu and Bankotsu continued to argue as they worked, all about the music. Rihanna’s voice already melted away into a sad song. 

The rest of the shift went like this. Kagome kept to baking and the boys kept bickering. Their relationship was smooth and balanced. Their mouths didn’t advertise it, but Kagome knew. Kagura knew. Jakotsu and Bankotsu kept Spiffy afloat. The whole kitchen did. It was their world. The coffee shop was just the front. These little musings entertained Kagome as much as the mouths of Jakotsu and Bankotsu. 

Kagome sipped on her frappe before wiping down her counter space. The dishwasher came in a few hours ago and was washing up any dishes and cooking wares. Jakotsu and Bankotsu were cleaning up their stations. The sound of Kagura and the other barista moving tools around behind the employee door reached Kagome’s ears. They were a symphony of work. It reminded her of Shippo and his concerts at school. It reminded her of Miroku’s Muay Thai. 

A song of upbeat taste blared through the radio, and Bankostu walked over and turned it off. “I’m too tired for this shit,” he grumbled.

Jakotsu complained, “You’re so uncultured!” He tossed his towel at Bankotsu, who shrugged it off his shoulder and kept cleaning up. “I swear! If you don’t turn it on, I’ll start singing myself.” His hands were too dirty to touch the radio.

“You don’t have the vocals for it,” commented Bankotsu. He didn’t even look up from his wiping the counter space for the fifth time in a row. Every empty deli spot was neat and orderly, ready for Monday. 

Kagura burst into the kitchen and complained, “We got one last customer.”

“No way!” bellowed Bankotsu. 

Jakotsu groaned and leaned against Bankotsu’s clean countertop. 

“Manager is taking their order right now,” said Kagura. “I told him my hours were up, so I’m going.”

“Wait up for me?” asked Kagome as she was tidying up the last of her station.

“Of course, babe,” said Kagura. “We’ll take the bus unless you don’t mind me calling an Uber. I know how you like to write sometimes… all the time.” She giggled and walked away toward the manager’s office. 

Kagome smiled. Then, she slurped down the rest of her frappe. By that time, Jakotsu was singing terribly off key next to an annoyed Bankotsu, who was putting a few sandwiches together. She recognized the song that Jakotsu was singing. 

Adele’s “Set Fire to the Rain.”

The song was one of many she’d listened to after Kikyo and...him. Adele had been a voice for her, not an ear. Her songs had cradled Kagome’s heart and settled her nerves when she couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night. The words had been her cathartic release when she’d held in her tears to keep Shippo from hearing her sorrow. Old emotions swirled in her. The wanting bubbled in her chest and came up through her throat as a storm. 

“ _ But I set fire! To the rain! _ ” joined Kagome. She hadn’t sung in so long, and the last time she remembered singing had been when Miroku had been in the hospital. It was as if she’d never stopped. Her voice was strong, sounding around the kitchen and stopping everyone, including Bankotsu. The strength of her voice had her grabbing the edge of the counter. “ _ When laying with you, I could stay there, close my eyes… Feel you here forever… _ ” She was so lost in the emotions that she’d never shown anyone but Miroku that Kagome didn’t even notice when Kagura was behind her and playing the soundtrack to the very same song on her phone. It was perfect. 

The plop of an unfinished sandwich hitting the mopped floor accompanied Kagome’s last note. The night was here, and she felt like a Chicago wind, ready and willing to overtake the city with her whole existence.

**llllllllll**

Inuyasha leaned over his notebook with his pen twirling between his fingers. His flimsy wood desk was a mess, but it was the only mess in the entire studio. The band was practicing in the next room, so Inuyasha was sitting here and trying to write their new album.

It would be born here; it’d have to. Tessaiga’s emergence, break of the boundary, would have to happen in this studio. The white walls of his office were covered in posters of bands that had created legendary art: Metallica, Mastodon, and so many others. There were even more modern band posters on his wall. The peach tile floors extended beyond this room, and every square witnessed the blossoming of Tessaiga. 

_ A phoenix’s broken wings. _

_ The fire! The fire! It sings! _

_ Born from the ashes. Born from the ashes of you! _

__ Inuyasha stopped writing and crumpled the paper. He tossed it across the room and growled to himself. This shouldn’t be hard, not like this. He’d written happy songs, political songs, songs about promises, but not these. 

__ He groaned into his hands. __

The sound of Koga and Ayame playing their guitars just a sliver out of sync annoyed him. He wanted to get up and have them start over again, but he willed himself to let them figure it out. After all, he had to write and write and write—damn! 

Isn’t Sango keeping them on beat? Inuyasha asked himself. He dropped the notebook and pen on his desk and stood up with a dramatic push of his folding chair. He strode into the main room of the studio and observed his friends, his band, playing with so much passion. 

Sango was in the center of the room with her drum set. She’d bragged about the money she’d saved over the years as a kid to finally get it, and she took care of it. Sango wore a torn blue crop top, high waisted jeans, and an open sweatshirt. Her heavy booted feet tapped the tile and the pedal, while her hands twirled those sticks over the bellies of her drums with finesse and joy. The wild grin on her face was bright as she bobbed her head to the music they made. For a woman at 5 feet tall, she was a giant among drummers out there.

Ayame wasn’t like Sango. They were tall at 5’11” with a love for their sky blue guitar and black flannel. Their flannel was open, revealing their tank top underneath. Their dark blue jeans were baggy with big pockets. Their chucks were also black, but the laces were rainbow-colored. Ayame’s bright hair was short and faded around the sides and back, and their bright eyes were a stark contrast to the dark colors they preferred to wear. Their pointed ears were pierced with many rings dangling artfully, and their fangs were glinting in the room’s light with diamonds drilled into each one. They were on equal physical footing with Inuyasha, so they weren’t scrawny or too buff for their size. 

Koga, on the other hand, was an anomaly. The guy rocked whatever clothes he felt, so Inuyasha felt it was hard to pinpoint his exact style. For the most part, t-shirts and jeans were his favorites to wear during practices, and he wore exactly that today. His shoes were spike boots, matching the dark of his hair and contrasting his own bright eyes. What made Koga even better was his physical prowess: he stood at 6’4” with a muscular body that belonged to a rugby player. As big and burly as he was, Koga strummed his guitar with total tenderness. 

When they all saw Inuyasha, everyone quieted their instruments. Inuyasha began to tap his foot and gestured for Sango to pick it up. Once Sango did so, Inuyasha pointed at both Koga and Ayame. The cousins picked up the beat and went in one by one. The sounds melded together and pulled at the walls and floor. They played “Pockets” until the very end, and Inuyasha didn’t accept any fuck ups. They’d practiced these songs too much for that.

At the end of it all, Inuyasha had made no progress on the new album, sang his heart out with his band, and exhausted himself trying to find inspiration in every little corner of this studio.

“Be patient,” offered Sango as she lounged on the stool by the too white kitchen. She was leaning against the island counter, while Koga sat next to her with a water bottle in hand. Ayame was searching the fridge and cupboards for snacks. “We aren’t falling behind or even too different from other popular bands. We have a concert coming up… Don’t you think we’ve already made progress?”

Inuyasha kicked at the tile as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t content like Sango. His ambition wasn’t so gentle. “I’m not saying we haven’t made progress, Sango,” he replied with a droop of his shoulders. “We are capable--no, deserving of so much more.”

“And we’ll get as much,” added Koga. “I’m with Sango on this. Have patience.” He sipped from his water bottle, and Inuyasha almost cringed at the way Sango dreamily looked at Koga. He wondered if Koga knew the way Sango ogled him as their fangirls did. Then again, Inuyasha couldn’t blame her. Koga was a catch.

Ayame groaned loudly. “We got nothing!” they complained with a tight shut of the refrigerator door. 

“We’d have snacks left if you hadn’t eaten them all,” Koga threw over his shoulder. 

Koga and Ayame were a fiery pair of cousins, and their relationship was always teetering on chaotic, loving, and roughly playful. They’d been like that since Inuyasha had met them in high school. He wasn’t sure how they made it through their childhood together since they fought at least once per day.

“I didn’t eat them all by myself, moron!” Ayame threw back at him. They checked their smartphone and appeared more annoyed as they scrolled through some app or something. 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, then he glanced at Sango, who was pretending to look at the counter while stealing looks at Koga. He’d met Sango at the library as a kid, and they’d spent a lot of time together as their parents worked at the same library. At one point, they’d hoped that Sango’s dad would ask out Inuyasha’s mom, so they’d be siblings at last. That hadn’t happened. Their parents had never considered new partners since their last. 

What was it about love that just brittled people? His mother never thought of taking on a new partner since his shitty dad. Ever. He’d asked many times throughout his childhood, and his mother had told him that she’d promised all her love to him. That hadn’t been the same kind of love, and Inuyasha had known all along that she had been avoiding the topic. 

Beyond his mother, Inuyasha had his own fair share of brittle-ness. He vowed not to think of her. Not her hair, not her eyes, and definitely not the feel of her lips on his own. He wouldn’t do it, and Inuyasha stubbornly pulled at his own dog ears to think of actual pain. 

“What if we went off the line,” Inuyasha finally said. He was spewing bullshit, but they didn’t know that. Bullshit was better than  _ her _ .

“Huh?” asked Koga. 

Sango was even tilting her head at him. 

“Our music has been about so many things,” Inuyasha said. “We agreed not to touch love because it was bullshit.”

“Right,” came Ayame’s addition as they walked over, still scrolling through their phone. “You mean right after you got dumped by that chick.”

“Right,” agreed Koga with a raise of his water bottle. 

“No!” growled Inuyasha. He sighed and paced the room. “We got to be above that simple shit.”

“Don’t look simple,” replied Ayame again. They finally looked up from their screen. “The competition was spent with you being a mess.”

Inuyasha froze. He wouldn’t dare say otherwise. They’d all been there when he’d drank almost half the bar at the hotel.  _ Drunk _ had been too kind of a word for his condition. The one to get him out of that stupor had been Sango, who’d literally slapped the shit out of him to remind him that they’d had the final performance in the finals in a few hours. 

“Leave him alone, Ayame,” said Sango. “He got out of his feelings, and we won that competition.” She crossed her arms. 

“So you want to write about love but not love?” asked Koga. He scratched his cheek, where there was stubble beginning to crowd in. 

Inuyasha licked his lips and crossed his own arms as he looked at the floor. He felt more exposed now for some reason, but they didn’t know he had thought of  _ her _ . “I don’t know,” he answered. “I… I’m hungry. Let’s go somewhere.” The change of topic didn’t go smoothly as Sango pressed him, but Koga suggested they drop it. 

“Spiffy’s open,” suggested Ayame, who perked at the mention of eating. “They got good sandwiches.”

“The new place?” asked Sango. “Haven’t been there.”

“Me either,” said Koga. “Leave it to Ayame to know where food is.”

Ayame gave their cousin the bird. “It’ll be open for another hour, so we should go now,” they said.

Spiffy wasn’t unfamiliar to Inuyasha. Right when he’d needed the caffeine, the shop had appeared. He’d complained to his mother how he’d wished there was something other than Starbucks with better food. His wish had been granted twice over.

Inuyasha huffed to himself before heading toward the door. He could hear his friends shuffling to get themselves together and follow him promptly. The grey hallway was empty, and the sounds of their shoes were thunderous on the thin carpeting. Sango caught up to him first and walked with exaggeration in her hips. Inuyasha raised his brow at her but didn’t ask; this game she’d played with Koga had been going on for so long. 

They had this conversation before, too: Koga wouldn’t be interested since the guy was asexual and didn’t want anything to do with sex. Inuyasha hadn’t been ignorant of what Sango had wanted in addition to a relationship, even though she’d said she’d be fine without sex on the table. After all this time, Inuyasha found it weird how she’d stuck out on her crush this long. It’d gotten more noticeable since this past July, too.

The walk to Spiffy was short as they didn’t do much walking. Inuyasha carried Sango on his back, while the wolf demon cousins ran ahead of him. They bounded through the northside neighborhood and came to a coffee shop that was so appealing. They all entered and ordered food and coffee from the manager Renkotsu, a bald guy who took their order way too seriously. 

They got their coffees at a booth near the employee door, and they chatted light-heartedly about Netflix shows, comedy podcasts, and their presence on Twitter and Instagram. Inuyasha forgot about the competition and the sandwiches. He enjoyed the presence of his friends, his family if he were asked. 

Suddenly, a voice broke through their chatter and Inuyasha recognized the vocals of Adele. He wasn’t a huge fan, but he was aware of talents with big voices. For a moment, he thought that the staff was playing the radio really loud, but it was the lone voice that let him know that this wasn’t the radio.

“Quiet,” Inuyasha hissed, and his friends quieted down with questioning looks. His ear twitched as the perfectly pitched voice was accompanied by the instrumental from a device, probably a phone. The voice was passionate. He liked that. It touched his very soul, and Inuyasha figured this was what it meant to hear a voice so pretty that it hurt. 

It was at this moment that Inuyasha finally knew the answer to his problem. The voice sent a strong chill through his body. He ignored the hushed questions and kept listening. Yes, this voice gave him an idea, and it resonated in him like the winds of Chicago exploring the city. 

They needed to hold auditions. He hoped to hear from this voice. Tessaiga needed it. And soon.


	2. Espresso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People literally bump into each other.

The marks on Izayoi’s cheeks burned, stopping her from typing up her document, and she leaned forward at her desk. The burns were so intense, she couldn’t concentrate on the screen in front of her. She reached across and grabbed the picture of Inuyasha and herself. Squinting at the image, Izayoi looked at her son and remembered how he’d wanted ice cream that day and had posed long enough to finally get his mint chocolate chip ice cream cone dipped in chocolate. The shell was smeared on his cheeks in the picture; the overalls were slightly wet with melted ice cream. It was better than the first picture they’d taken without his messy overalls. His white hair was tied up in a bun since he’d refused to get a haircut at the time. 

The pain passed. She hated it when this happened. She’d yet to find a way out. Until then, it was over. Finally.

**llllllllll**

Kagome sighed as Jakotsu bothered her to sing again. Only another fifteen minutes, she thought. She had requested half the day off since Shippo needed to be taken out of school early for a doctor’s appointment. Lucky for her, Miroku had volunteered to also take half the day off from his job in construction work to drive them both to the doctor. 

“Please,” begged Jakotsu. “Just one song! We’ll sing together and be noticed by some hot big shot out there and become pop stars.” He was joking a little more now, but he was pouting comically over his shoulder as he worked the stove with ease. 

Bankotsu was assembling sandwiches and double-checking the notes from Kagura and the trainee, Akitoki Hojo. “Jakostu, can’t you shut up and do your job?” he complained after wrapping up a sandwich in parchment paper and setting it on the tray. “This one needs a cheesy broccoli soup!”

“Got it!” Kagome volunteered as Jakotsu was too busy at the stove. She went to the warmer and served a helping of soup into a bowl. Then, she set it on the tray and checked for any stray streams of cheese or broccoli. 

“I thought I was your work husband,” joked Jakotsu in a pout. He pulled out a new batch of house-made deli meat and set it aside for Bankotsu. 

“You’re a moron,” huffed Bankotsu. He finished up some trays and walked them over toward the tray warmer, where he set the food to stay warm and toasty. “I’m backed up here, and I could use you without your head up your ass, Jakotsu!”

Jakotsu smirked over his shoulder. “Do you want me to respond to that?”

Kagome shook her head and listened to them bicker through their cooking. She’d made enough bakes to last the rest of her shift, so she wasn’t too worried about the manager getting over-worked with her station. Renkotsu got weird when he was stressed out, and she didn’t want to hear how he nearly set the kitchen on fire...again. The smell of cookies permeated the air, so Kagome went to check her oven. 

“Please, tell me those are chocolate chip cookies,” said Bankotsu. He was glancing over at Kagome’s station. As muscular and intimidating as Bankotsu looked on the outside, the man had a sweet tooth like a child. 

“You’ll get fat with those,” teased Jakotsu, “fatter than now.”

“Says the guy with skin and bones,” growled Bankotsu. “Besides, ain’t nothing wrong with a little fat.”

Ignoring them both, Kagome smiled as she pulled out the chocolate chip cookies and set aside a few for the staff, Miroku, and Shippo. “They are chocolate chip cookies,” said Kagome. She glanced up at Bankotsu, who was staring at the plate with a focus that didn’t seem to belong to a deli guy. She chuckled lightly before bringing over a cookie to him on a napkin.

“Work husband first!” called Jakotsu before he swiped the cookie up and shoved it in his mouth.

“You’ve crossed the line!” growled Bankotsu as he stabbed a stack of meat with a butcher knife. The knife made a sharp thud against the counter. 

Kagome simply retrieved another cookie as the two bickered and left it for Bankotsu. The argument ended pretty soon, and Kagome, from her perch at the oven, saw Bankotsu mending his feelings with the new cookie in his mouth. She put the cookies in their usual spot to cool and wiped up her station. All the while, she didn’t hear Kagura come in. 

“What’s my wife still doing here?” Kagura asked playfully as she approached Kagome with her staple drink. 

“Cleaning up,” answered Kagome before putting her rag back in a red bucket of soap and water. She took the drink carefully and sipped it with a hum. 

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” asked Kagura. She leaned against the countertop and folded her hands together neatly.

“Yes,” answered Kagome, swallowing the drink and savoring the caramel. “Shippo and Miroku will be with me.” She wanted to make sure Kagura remembered that she couldn’t drink too much. Thankfully, Miroku would be driving anyway, and Shippo would be her reason to stay completely sober. The last time she’d gotten drunk...she didn’t want to go there. 

“It’s a restaurant,” said Kagura with a quirk to her lip. “This time is meant for fun, not for partying. That’s for Thursday night.” A humorous glint twinkled in her eye. 

Kagome was about to reply when she heard the radio come on. The host of the station was talking about some band playing in town today, and Bankotsu was angrily guarding the box as Jakotsu whined to change the station. “I know,” she said. “I won’t party, I mean--but, I’m looking forward to just hanging out tonight. It’ll be fun.”

They walked together to get Kagome’s things and to the front of the coffee shop. Miroku and Shippo were sitting at a booth with a set of shakes in their hands. They were staring each other down and sipping their shakes non-stop. Kagome paused just out of their space to watch them. It was moments like these that made Kagome love Miroku and Shippo even more. The man, who was like her brother, loved Shippo as if the kid were his own son. It was moments like these that Kagome wished that she had fallen in love with her best friend and had raised Shippo with him instead. Miroku wouldn’t have done what’d she’d seen. He wouldn’t have compelled Shippo to ask about him every other night. Miroku would’ve saved her from her sightless taste in people and demons.

He’d have protected her heart and the pillars that now lay crumbled in her chest. 

“Mommy!” Shippo suddenly exclaimed. There was chocolate collected at the corners of his mouth and whipped cream smudged across his nose. 

“Kagome,” said Miroku with a happy whipped cream smile. “And Kagura.” He wore a navy blue hoodie and black sweatpants.

“Your baby daddy was hitting on me again,” sighed Kagura. 

Kagome shook her head. 

“You must like me to push me away so fiercely,” Miroku tossed lightly with a raise of his brow and half-grin. 

“Uncle Miroku!” said Shippo. “Have respect.”

“Now that’s how a gentleman acts,” said Kagura toward Shippo, who blushed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 

Stepping in, Kagome took a napkin from the silver dispenser on the table and wiped off Shippo’s face and hand. Miroku continued to flirt shamelessly with Kagura, who dodged his remarks with ease. It was a dance they undertook, so Kagome wasn’t all that worried about them. 

“Time to go,” Kagome told Shippo. “We got to get you checked out.”

“I know,” replied Shippo with a drop of his mood. “Do I really need the vaccine shots? I’m a demon.”

“Yes,” replied Kagome as she picked up her son and steadied him on her hip. “I’ll be right there with you, and Uncle Miroku will hang out with us for the rest of the day.”

“That’s right,” pitched in Miroku. He swung an arm around Kagome’s shoulders and looked at Shippo with that amusing pucker on his face. “You know we’re best buds for life! I’ll be out in the waiting room, and I’ll personally buy you ice cream when we get out.”

“Pinky swear on that ice cream,” Shippo demanded with his pink jutted out for a shake. 

Didn’t they just drink milkshakes? Kagome thought. 

“You drive a serious bargain, squirt,” replied Miroku as he pinky promised Shippo. 

“If you were like that all the time,” commented Kagura, “you might almost be cute, Miroku.”

Before Miroku could open his mouth, Kagome cut in, “Before you make her take that back, we should get going. The appointment is in an hour.”

“But I’m handsome all the time, right?” asked Shippo as he fiddled with his uniform. He peeked at Kagura. 

“Of course,” answered Kagura. She pinched his chin lightly. “Now be good for your mom. I’ll see you later.” Turning her sight to Kagome, she embraced her work wife for a moment. “I’ll see you all in a couple hours at Cero’s. It’s a regular restaurant with bomb food.” She winked at Miroku, who chuckled awkwardly before walking with Kagome and an arm still around her shoulders. 

“You keep doing that and you’ll end up digging yourself a hole,” said Kagome. Shippo was leaning his head on her shoulder. 

“Doing what?” asked Miroku with an air of complete innocence. He let her go and went for the door. “I’m just a man trying to find love.”

“Is that how it is?” laughed Kagome as her friend opened the door. She walked through and glanced back at him. “You know Kagura can only take so much. The woman’s not str--umph!” Kagome felt herself collide with someone or something, but that accidental touch was enough to shock her skin and let her know that that a non-human was right in front of her. “I--” She backed up into Miroku, who put his arm back around her shoulders. It was protective from the grip he had on her shoulder. 

When she looked up, Kagome got an eyeful of beautiful in leather and sunglasses. Not only that, there was a gorgeous woman wrapped around his arm with her lush brown hair hanging over her shoulder. Their outfits were dark, but they were a charming looking couple. Though what had her stunned was the silver hair on the man’s head with a pair of fuzzy dog ears peering from beneath the clumps. 

She tried to say sorry, but Kagome’s voice remained stuck in her throat. 

“Pa--” started Shippo before Kagome adjusted him. The kid was just as stunned as she was. 

“Watch where you’re going,” came the silver-haired demon’s rough voice. His voice was so deep that it sent shivers down her spine and unsettled her nerves. 

“I--” began Kagome, affronted by his response to a clear accident.

“--It was an accident,” Miroku quickly cut in, sharper than a knife. His tone gave no room for weakness. Miroku wasn’t just her friend right now; he was her protector again, just like in school. 

“You trying to start something?” growled the silver-haired man. He literally growled, and his fangs were the brightest teeth Kagome’d ever seen. 

“You already started it, pretty boy,” Miroku growled back. He adjusted Kagome to stand behind him. His no-shit-taking demeanor wasn’t unfamiliar; it was the same one that had gotten him in trouble before. 

Kagome wanted to say something when she saw the silver-haired demon do the same to his girlfriend. “Mommy,” piped up Shippo. “Are they going to fight?” Kagome saw Shippo looking at Miroku with wide but hesitant eyes. She’d seen this face before.

She’d been too young to protect him when he’d first looked like that. Kagome hadn’t known what to make of it in a kid. She knew better now. A heat bubbled over and filled her face. Concentrating her powers, Kagome put up half a barrier to cut off the demon from Miroku. They stopped, surprised, and looked in Kagome’s direction. 

Hand outheld still, Kagome used her spiritual power to aid in the boom of her voice: “You will not do this in front of my child.” She stepped beside Miroku. “It was an accident. Now move over.” Just in the peripheral of her vision, Kagome saw her hair flaring out. No one was scarier to a demon than a holy person. In this case, a classic priestess was enough to fry demons instantly up close. 

The silver-haired demon looked pissed off, but he took a step back with his girlfriend. Kagome didn’t spare him another glance as she released her power back into the world and bypassed him with Miroku following after her. Of course, Kagome could feel Miroku glaring at the guy as they passed by.

“I could’ve handled him,” said Miroku once they were at his car. He opened the burgundy four-door Honda with a press of a button on his keys, and Kagome settled Shippo in the car seat he still needed. He was staying quiet. She shut the door. 

“I know you could’ve handled him,” replied Kagome. She looked him in his face. His lips were so tight that they almost expressed more than the eyebrows needed to. “Shippo was scared… He hadn’t looked like that since… since he was three.”

“Don’t you trust me to protect you?” asked Miroku. 

“Of course I do,” replied Kagome. Her shoulders dropped with a sigh from her lips. She approached him and embraced him around his strong waist. He was stiff under her arms; he was pissed. “Please… You’ve seen him look like that, too. He was so small, Miroku…and... I don’t want him to look at you differently like everyone else does.” She squeezed him and felt his arms wrap around her shoulders. 

Miroku pressed his cheek to her head. “He was looking at me like that?” he asked. There was a bleak calmness in his voice now, but Kagome could feel his chest shake just a little. The little shake brought back old memories that they both had stored between themselves. “I thought I’d put all that shit behind me, but it’s still there. He saw it, you said. It’s still there.”

Right under your skin, thought Kagome. She pursed her lips as their experiences reminded every cell in her body of what went down all those years ago.

A knocking brought them from each other’s arms. They glanced at Shippo, who was staring at them with questions clear on his face. They had an appointment to get to.

**llllllllll**

Shippo was newly eight years old when it happened. 

He’d decided to change out of one onesie for another one that Mama Kikyo had given him. It was covered in lego superheroes, and he loved it. He loved everything she gave him. She’d helped his mommy get him more books for school and helped him practice his saxophone. Mama Kikyo had a degree in music and theories, after all, so she gave him the pointers and extra lessons at home to continue mastering his craft. 

His room was filled with his running about as he gathered his saxophone and sheet music to practice when Mama Kikyo got home. Together, they were writing a song for mommy, and they were so close to finishing. So close! The bleak white of his bedroom walls was covered in posters of superheroes, animals, dinosaurs, demons of legend, and charts about music notes and symbols. 

The bed was made and the floor well swept. Mama Kikyo had said if he’d kept his room clean, then she’d help him finish the song faster. What a deal. It was almost a steal!

Shippo set up the mouthpiece of his instrument and set to tuning it up. Mama Kikyo had taught him how to do that with his ears alone. “You’re a demon,” she’d said. “You can hear when an instrument isn’t tuned before a machine could.” So he did. He listened to the saxophone become an extension of his breathing, then he adjusted the instrument’s mouthpiece accordingly. As he did so, he thought of the many other instruments he’d practiced at school. 

Drums, guitar, horn, trumpet, etc. They all were stored at the back of his mind as he focused on getting the saxophone to match the note he played. Knowing the notes almost by heart, his keen fox ears were hard to trick. The sounds were all flowing smoothly until he heard harsh tones coming from the kitchen and could taste the salt in the air from just breathing normally. 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” came his mommy’s strained voice. 

Shippo gulped as he set down his saxophone gently and crept toward his ajar door. He peeked outside and saw Mama Kikyo and mommy sitting together at the table. Something seemed off. The very air was full of salty tears and something else. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he didn’t want to step in and interrupt. Mama Kikyo always said that children shouldn’t interrupt adults when they talk, so he’d stay in place. 

“I don’t love you anymore,” said Mama Kikyo. She sat there elegantly at the kitchen table, while mommy stood at the counter to the right of the stove. Mommy’s face was so red, and her cheeks were wet, contrasting with the cool beauty of Mama Kikyo’s features. 

Mommy turned the stove on low and covered the pot of stew. Her casual green dress was protected by the sloppy apron she took from work one day. Mama Kikyo wore a grey suit; it was her favorite that she wore to the university where she taught other people how to hone their musical skills. They weren’t as good as him she’d told him one day.

“I’ve fallen out of love with you, Kagome,” Mama Kikyo further explained. “Make no assumption that something is wrong with you or what you do, but I’ve just run out of feelings for you.”

Shippo felt like he couldn’t move. This didn’t sound like Mama Kikyo. Mama Kikyo loved mommy. They loved each other so much that they went on a date every week and asked Uncle Miroku or grandma to keep him overnight so they could play video games together. Shippo didn’t mind that since he loved video games and loved his moms too much not to complain. 

“I’m not assuming anything is wrong with me,” replied mommy in a hushed but restrained voice. “You’re leaving, and I’m supposed to believe you don’t love me after this past Saturday… Kikyo, what the fuck!”

It was at this moment that Shippo saw the suitcase hidden by Mama Kikyo’s legs under the table. Her back was to him, so she didn’t see how his eyes focused on that suitcase. 

“There’s no need to swear,” said Mama Kikyo. “Shippo is still in his room.”

Mommy pursed her lips so hard that Shippo lost track as soon as she turned away and looked up at the ceiling. Mommy turned back to Mama Kikyo and hissed, “You don’t get to talk about my son. You made promises to him, just like you made promises to me!” She showed her hand, where a delicate ring sat on her ring finger. “What the fuck was that proposal about if you were just going to leave?”

Shippo saw that hand and face, which had been so happy just a couple of days ago, tremble. His mommy had happily told him that she and Mama Kikyo were going to get married. They’d been together since Shippo had been five. Before that, he remembered a man and mommy dating happily for a while. Then one day, he was gone. He’d felt so sad then that it had consumed him as much as it had consumed her. 

Even now as he watched his moms fight, Shippo felt a feeling welling up in his chest and burning his face. It was a feeling so familiar that it seemed ancient and all too happy to be coming up. His face was wet when he touched his cheeks, and he couldn’t see so well. Past the blur of his tears, he saw Mama Kikyo rise from her seat with an all too strong start and take up her suitcase. 

“Goodbye, Kagome,” said Mama Kikyo--Kikyo, just Kikyo. “I will never see you again.” She turned and stopped upon looking at Shippo directly in his eyes. 

When did he leave his room? When did he come to stand there and stare at this woman who’d made promises to his mommy and him? She’d said she’d go to his concert at the end of the month. What was it? November?

“Goodbye, young man,” said Kikyo. The black choker on her neck was new. Had that always been there? 

Shippo hated the smell of the choker and the new perfume. It was strong up close; it was worse than wilted vegetables and burned meat. Was that what it was? He couldn’t utter any words in reply as he watched Kikyo leave the apartment without so much as a pause or look to reassure him that she was going to disappear. 

The door closed shut, and the locked sound brought forth the heavy coughing and sputtering in the kitchen. Shippo ran over as he wiped at his face and saw his mother sitting in front of the fridge with her hands in her face. The little ring was dented and lying on the ground near him. He ran over to her and wrapped his little arms as much as possible around her waist. 

“Mommy,” he said with snot on his lips and chin. “Mommy!” He couldn’t say anything else. He just needed her, and when she hugged him back, Shippo knew she felt the same about him. 

**llllllllll**

Inuyasha felt his ears pinching from the assault of the windy city’s deep breaths. He suddenly regretted not listening to Sango and putting on a cap or something to cover his ears, but the hat would’ve rubbed against the sensitive skin and made hearing so annoying. He adjusted his open jacket, where his torn crop top could be seen clearly. Sunglasses adorned his face, keeping his identity on the low in the city. His jeans were tight around his legs, and they showed how little effort he needed to keep himself so toned and fit. 

Thank you, demon genes!

“Why are we on Michigan Avenue?” asked Sango. She was wearing a blue dress, thick black leggings, boots, and a butterfly pin in her hair. Her hand was occupied with her smartphone and their band’s profile pages on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. She’d insisted on managing those pages herself, even though they’d been able to afford to pay someone else to do it. 

Inuyasha raised his brow at her. “We never get to hang out by ourselves,” he answered honestly. He didn’t tell her that they were walking into the Gold Coast area for an additional reason, to go to Spiffy. “We’re always with the band, so I figured we get out and walk together.” The busy-ness lessened, and the shops and streets got smaller during their walk.

“Uh huh,” replied Sango. She swiped their page to answer a text she got from her brother, Kohaku, who was asking if she was coming home this week to see the family. “You know I’m not some complete moron. Spill it.” 

A frown fell on Inuyasha’s face. “You don’t miss hanging out together?” he asked. The memories of being kids and teenagers were sweet and sprinkled with some of their closest moments, like the pockets of delectable seeds in a pomegranate. 

Sango answered she’d be home after the concert. It was tonight. “We are walking in downtown at eleven in the morning on a concert day,” said Sango. She crossed her arms. “There are literally people walking around with our merch and could at any moment see us.”

“Walking in a little danger never hurt,” replied Inuyasha with a soft scoff. “Besides, I could get us out of here super fast.”

Unconvinced by the looks of her flattened brow, Sango replied, “We should be with Ayame and Koga.”

“We will.”

“Why are we here, Inuyasha?”

“We’re spend--”

“--No! Why are we here?” 

“I didn’t--” Inuyasha started again.

“--Inuyasha!” Sango cut in with a fierce flash of her teeth. “Why are we here on a concert day?”

Inuyasha’s ears flattened. They kept walking. He couldn’t keep her in the dark for long, and Inuyasha trusted Sango to have a mature reply to his ideas. “I want to hold auditions for an additional member of the band.” They crossed the street, where Sango stopped them both.

Sango angled her head. “Auditions?” she asked. “Why are you thinking about auditions right now? We have a concert.”

Inuyasha shoved his hands in his pockets. “I know,” he said. He could already hear the curt edge of her voice rising. He recognized that voice anywhere.

“Nineteen thousand people are filling in to the United Center right now,” continued Sango. “They are expecting Tessaiga to come in and play the greatest hits we’ve had so far. Two hours of paid music time.” She pulled up her phone and showed the numerous tags of pictures just on Twitter alone. “We have to get back in like less than an hour. We have an interview beforehand, too!”

Inuyasha stopped and took hold of Sango’s shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. He’d sometimes forget how bright her eyes were compared to his. The spark of Sango’s spirit was enough to dull the gold of his eyes any day. He could see from the stress creeping at the edges of her sclera that she was experiencing her usual nerves before a concert. “Relax,” he said soothingly. The audition idea wasn’t entirely forgotten, but he knew when to draw the line. “We won’t be late. Why don’t we get some coffee and go back? We’ll get there without anyone noticing.” He smiled for good measure. 

Taking a deep breath, Sango shut her eyes and nodded. With a softer gaze, Sango replied, “Yeah.” It took a moment, but Sango was working through her calming mantras and taking more deep breaths. Inuyasha waited and breathed with her. A half-smile finally graced Sango’s face. “Starbucks?”

Humming lightheartedly, Inuyasha drew back and pinched his chin. “How about we get something from Spiffy,” he offered. The Gold Coast wasn’t all that big, to him, so they’d gotten past the major stores quick.

“Why Spiffy?” asked Sango. She was turned around with Inuyasha gesturing to Spiffy across the street. “Oh.”

“It’s right there,” said Inuyasha. 

Suddenly, Sango looked at him with a look that told Inuyasha everything. It was the same look that she’d given him whenever she figured something out. It also happened to be the same look when--no! He wouldn’t go there. Her look shifted into a soft sigh. Sango wrapped her arm in his and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Let’s just get coffee and go back,” she said. “We’ll talk about your idea later.”

They walk over to Spiffy, being careful not to cross when people in fancy cars were driving by. They used to walk like this all the time as kids. The touch was comforting and natural. Inuyasha suddenly wanted to ask her if she remembered how they couldn’t get dates to any dance because people thought they were dating in high school. He wanted to ask if she was really serious about Koga, and he wanted to know if she had ever thought about taking advantage of her smarts to get into those Ivy League schools that her father still pestered her about on holidays. He wanted to know if she thought about anything outside of their bubble. Inuyasha was a half-demon, so time was irrelevant to his every step. Sango, on the other hand, only had a handful of years to her life. 

Tessaiga was everything to him, but he thought of Sango every time. She stepped outside her father’s expectations to stick with him and the band. Didn’t she deserve to have a choice outside of her friends and family?

His musings brought them to Spiffy’s door, and before he could lay a hand on the knob, the door swung inward with a chattering woman coming out and bumping into him. Inuyasha could’ve avoided it, but he was so comfortable with Sango on his arm that he didn’t want to jostle her and possibly knock her over. The woman backed up and opened her mouth to apologize, maybe, but she didn’t say anything. There was a pause on her lips as she stared straight at him. 

Inuyasha was momentarily stunned by her gawking and the familiarity of her features. She wasn’t a skinny woman, and she had dark hair, rosy cheeks, and eyes as brilliant as the Chicago skyline. She was wearing a Spiffy uniform and holding a fox demon child on her hip. Did that kid’s shirt say Demon College Prep High School on it? Now the kid tried to say something, but the lady adjusted him on her hip.

Sango’s hold on Inuyasha’s arm tightened, and it was enough to get Inuyasha to finally speak up. “Watch where you’re going!” he said. It came harsher than he’d liked, but his voice wasn’t exactly soft. He almost felt bad when the woman’s beautiful face shifted to discomfort.

The woman just began to speak when a guy as tall as himself walked up and wrapped a protective arm around her. “--It was an accident,” came his sharp reply for the woman. His hair was tied back in some fuck boy do up, and his clothes were so baggy that it was tasteless. 

It was also at this moment that Inuyasha realized that these two were holy people. He could feel it rolling off them in waves. The man’s power was potent, but the woman’s power was stronger and under very careful control. They were probably some holy couple of sorts with a demon child under their adopted care--okay, he really hated the way this guy was looking at him. 

“You trying to start something?” challenged Inuyasha. The all too recognizable anger surged through him so fast. He pushed Sango behind him and saw the guy do the same with his girlfriend. However, he could feel Sango pulling on him and hissing for him to drop it. 

“You already started it, pretty boy!” retorted the guy.

Before they could do anything, a barrier was put right between them. He glanced at the woman, and he saw the flare of her dark hair. He was tempted to disrespect this guy’s relationship in front of him and call her beautiful to her face. Her anger was so raw that it licked his face right from the barrier, and he wanted more of it, more of her emotions that made her so breath-taking. 

“You will not do this in front of my child,” said the woman with a deeper and even more beautiful voice. “It was an accident. Now move over!” The pink glint in her eyes was enough to get Inuyasha’s heart going even faster. She stepped past him, and Inuyasha moved over without question. He watched them all walk away before Sango pulled him into Spiffy. 

“You haven’t changed all that much,” said Sango. They didn’t approach the counter yet. She looked him right in his face, piercing his sunglasses with ease. “You were picking a fight over an accident!” Her lips pursed as she crossed her arms. 

Inuyasha scoffed. “That guy pissed me off!” rebutted Inuyasha. “He gave me that fucking look. He--”

“--Inuyasha,” cut in Sango with bite, “people have probably been looking at us wrong whether we knew it or not!” She gestured toward the door. “People online who don’t like our music make memes and write shitty analyses about our lyrics. Besides, that lady bumped into you on  _ accident _ !”

A growl left Inuyasha’s lips. Never mind that other people did that; he wasn’t oblivious. In-person was different! “That asshole was doing it to my face,” he hissed. He pointed at the door. “He was challenging me, Sango. I can’t just back down from that, not from a fucking holy asshole.”

Sango growled, too. Inuyasha could tell she was fed up; she got that growling from being his friend for so long. “Men!” she screamed quietly with her hands thrown up. “If you’d gotten in trouble for some petty fight, your image along with Tessaiga could be jeopardized. Those holy people could’ve hurt you within legal reason. I wouldn’t know what to do if that fight happened. Forgive me for being concerned about you.”

A deep feeling was egging Inuyasha to keep arguing, but he quieted down. He nearly got fried, and Sango was still feeling her nerves for the concert. Inuyasha huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. His gaze left Sango. “Let’s get our coffee and go,” he said. He puckered his lips.

Sango’s heavy sigh made his ears drop. He wondered if she’d let this go or if she’d ask him about it later. She could be pushy that way. “Let’s just do this,” said his best friend in agreement. 

They ordered their coffee and went to the United Center, making sure to avoid the entrance where most of their fans were located. 

**llllllllll**

Drip.

Drip. Drip.

Drip.

“This will end when you tell me what I want to know,” said Sesshomaru. His snowy hair was pulled back in a long braid that traced his spine and buttocks. His pointed ears were perked, but his golden eyes were looking right through the bloodied mess at his feet. Sesshomaru’s collared shirt and jacket were hanging upon an old coat rack’s hooks. It was clean, cleaner than the smeared red on Sesshomaru’s tank top, black slacks, and polished shoes. 

“I… don’t know,” came the gnarled response. The guy was a human now hardly recognizable.

Another scream filled the concrete chamber of the warehouse, but it didn’t reach beyond the windows. The dull walls caged the dark of old factory equipment and dusty floors and gritty tarps. Sesshomaru’s pale claws were glowing now, illuminating his face and showing those marks from his mother’s strong genes.

“Your ignorant play is growing old,” said Sesshomaru. He glanced over his shoulder. “Permission to clear this failure.”

Standing up, Toga walked over to the human heap and his son, who stood 6’2” to Toga’s 6’5” stature. There was no hatred or real malice toward this man. He should’ve been seething like Sesshomaru, but Toga couldn’t be angry about a simple quarter-million-dollar loss. The human family served his family for generations with their very own butcher shop, allowing them to smuggle weapons and drugs into the city with ease. They could easily make it all up.

“His betrayal calls for the death of himself and his family,” Sesshomaru reminded Toga. 

Toga flipped some of his long silver hair back over his shoulder. The purple marks on his face were jagged and telling of ancient anger and mercilessness that still haunted every edge of his claws and swords. Everything was different now. Sniffing the air, Toga smelt the blood and fear-filled aura. The sound of the man’s heart was beating fast and getting faster with his looking on at him.

“You’ll find the snitch,” Toga said to the bleeding man. That wasn’t encouragement; it was an assignment. “The police force and its rogue detective will be dealt with.” He looked at Sesshomaru. “I want that station in my pocket. Every officer will be my soldier. This shop will not be touched again.” Initially, he hadn’t wanted an extra expense in a different city with a different police force, but apparently, that caught up to him. “The person responsible for our losses will suffer the consequences. I want our demons handing out that punishment.” 

The Inuyokai Family will not be underestimated, thought Toga.

Sesshomaru simply blinked, a tightness to his lips ever noticeable. He was displeased. His son hadn’t changed over the hundreds of years of being alive. Humans were still the least favored species to him. Given the chance, Sesshomaru would hand out death swiftly and with prejudice. 

“You’re being lenient,” said Sesshomaru with distaste. “I don’t understand your mercy.”

Toga glanced down at the human and offered a hand. The man wasn’t bound, so he reached up hesitantly and took Toga’s hand. He pulled up the human to his feet and told him to go home and clean up. “The shop will be up and working within a day,” said Toga. The man thanked him and limped off.

“Father,” said Sesshomaru, “what was the point in torture if you were just going to let him go?”

Toga sighed loudly. The suit he wore suddenly felt tighter. Punishment wasn’t only death. The butcher didn’t deserve such a high penalty. Who would man the shop if he were dead? Plus, the butcher’s face would serve as a warning to those workers, and the butcher wouldn’t want to deviate from his role with such mercy handed to him. 

This case that Sesshomaru looked forward to was nothing compared to the time table he kept at the back of his mind; that time table was all about Izayoi and Inuyasha. His soul bonded human woman was living her life in her cozy university library, while their son was rising as a singer in a metal band. 

“I need you to go to Chicago,” said Toga as he rubbed his face. The marks on his chest were burning. “Check on Izayoi and Inuyasha.”

Sesshomaru gave a loud scoff, probably double annoyed by Toga ignoring the question and turning the subject to his second family. He turned sharply to his clothes and dressed accordingly. “I refuse to check on your side-bitch and your washed-up son,” he said. “Check their Facebook pages if you’re so worried about them.”

Toga felt his demonic energy spike at the response. “Your brother,” said Toga with a little more patience, “is making a name for himself.” He didn’t look at Sesshomaru. Instead, he looked at a window high up on the dull wall. “And Izayoi…” His heart skipped at the memory of her face marked with his own. His power had been so great that he’d marked her face and entire body. Her own love had managed to mark his arms and chest with roses, her favorite flower. “She’s someone I will always love and protect.” He looked at his son now with a sharpness in his eyes that had Sesshomaru dipping his chin. “You will go to Chicago. You will check in on them.”

“Chicago is a waste of my time,” Sesshomaru tried again.

“I remember a time when you didn’t want to leave,” retorted Toga with fierceness. “I remember when you actually felt something that led to you having Towa and Setsuna.”

“And I left it!” Sesshomaru bit. “It made me weak…” He snorted and adjusted his collar again, looking away from Toga all together. “I refuse. My daughters need me more than your secret family.”

Red seemed to coat the room. Toga was still married to Sesshomaru’s mother Inukimi, and he loved her. However, his family in Chicago was far from a secret. Inukimi was very aware of Izayoi, and the lady dog demon deemed Izayoi unworthy of her attention. Toga took a step that made the entire scene a flash in his eyes. He was so close to Sesshomaru that his son was unable to move. “You will not voice your disobedience again,” warned Toga with a deep baritone to his voice. “You  _ will _ go to Chicago.”

Sesshomaru’s eyes flashed red briefly, but he submitted. That was the end of their conversation.

**llllllllll**

The entire United Center was packed. The roar of the crowd was deafening, even more so for Inuyasha. Their voices bounced off the tall walls of the basketball court and vibrated beyond the curtains of their stage. The stage was a large circle platform, upheld to elevate the band higher for everyone to see and for cameras to easily record. An announcer was speaking over the speakers and challenging the organic chaos surrounding Tessaiga. 

Inuyasha felt his heart pick up the pace. The tatters of his red  _ I Bite _ crop top hung off of him, matching the shredded blue tank top Koga wore. His jeans were left alone, but he had to wear heavy boots with bright red on them. He held a microphone in his right hand, and Inuyasha felt giddy, bobbing the thing at his side. 

Ayame wore a matching blue tank top like Koga’s, but the top wasn’t torn. Their shoulders appeared broader this way. Their pants were baggier with studded chucks on their feet. Their hair was tousled and appeared wet. Like Koga’s indigo guitar, Ayame’s black guitar had painted on white claw marks, and they had their individual speaker to strum their chords in. 

Sango, on the other hand, was the most effeminate of the group, so she wore blue jean shorts that were too short, and she sported a strappy black bralette that matched the flashy studded nature of her thigh-high boots. The  _ Bite Me _ choker around her neck was too much on the nose for Inuyasha’s taste, but he hadn’t said anything when she proudly showed it to the band after makeup and wardrobe.

Inuyasha glanced over his shoulder at the band and grinned big, showing the fangs of his teeth. He fed his demonic power softly into his eyes and made them red. Koga and Ayame followed his lead and bled red into their eyes. He faced the sound of the rising curtain and closed his eyes with a dip of his chin. Inuyasha was aware that Koga and Ayame were doing the same thing. Sango didn’t need to do so; she was human, a human who carried them into the moment with the tap of her sticks and the beginning beat of her drums. 

One by one, Koga and Ayame picked up their chins and opened their red eyes with their fingers playing the strings of their guitars with gusto. The crowd roared. It reminded Inuyasha that in this situation, the loudest cries were from the people in the seats, not from the demons behind him. Inuyasha looked up and opened his eyes. The crowd was wild now. 

Inuyasha brought the microphone up to his lips and snarled loudly. From this point on, the concert was at Tessaiga’s command. There was no sound that the band didn’t create or elicit. There was no move unless Tessaiga influenced it. They played songs and Inuyasha bathed in the glory with his bandmates visibly relishing the cheering. Solos were played, and Koga’s shirt went missing. 

Nothing mattered. That fuck boy didn’t matter. That gorgeous holy woman didn’t matter. His mother’s suspicion of his unhappiness didn’t matter. Spiffy didn’t matter. All that mattered was the beast that Tesaiga and the audience made. It was a breathing and living experience they could all feel in their chests, their shoulders, and their feet. 

With Koga and Ayame howling, Inuyasha unleashed a snarl that had even himself shivering. This was Inuyasha and his bandmates. This was Tessaiga. This was their tribute to the world who understood them and didn’t appreciate the raw emotions of man.

**llllllllll**

Kagome thought of her characters as Miroku drove them to Cero’s. Miroku and Shippo were singing along to a popular song on the radio, while the music just fueled her imagining her protagonist finding love in the unlikeliest place. Yes, her character would find the one to complete her, and the protagonist would have a wife and children in her ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late post. I'm trying to keep to that 2-week time frame for posts. Thank you for your patience!


	3. No Cream No Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's more singing!

Sesshomaru was leaning against the doorframe of his daughters’ room. Their little bodies were peacefully sleeping in their own princess beds with their own toy chests lining the foot of their beds. Their room was a palace within his small mansion, and he’d spared no expense for their happiness. 

Towa, his oldest, had his hair and fair skin. Setsuna, the youngest by a minute, had his furs and demeanor. They still resembled him very little. Their mother’s spirit resided in Towa and in her eyes, while their mother’s hair and skin shined in Setsuna. As they grew, they continued to look more like  _ her _ every day. 

He had hoped that the years would cease their questions like his energy had ceased their cries that first night. Their curiosity had to be  _ her _ doing, but even she knew when to not pry. Kaede, the old woman who sacrificed an eye to save his father once, remained behind him. She’d taken care of them while he worked, and she’d do so again. 

Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, Sesshomaru was reminded that he had to leave now. He was reminded that he had to return to Chicago, where  _ she _ still lived. He’d go there, but he wouldn’t be dragged down by his weakness. Finally.

He would, again, be there just for business. No weakness. Finally... no weakness.

**llllllllll**

Miroku was eighteen when it happened. 

The gang he pledged himself to was called the  _ Spirits _ . They were mostly human and had issues with a lot of demon gangs that came around. To give them an edge, they were all required to tattoo holy images onto their bodies. They drove anywhere they wanted, they carried guns, and they distributed drugs like it was water. 

He’d been cruising around with some other neighborhood friends. It had been slower than he’d thought any of it would go. The air had been warm, and the sun had been in his face. His tattoos had been buzzing against his skin and making his hairs stand, while the stickiness of the seat had clung to his sweaty skin. The gun in his hands had shaken him as he’d shot at some demon  _ Fangs  _ who’d been ballsy enough to drive into their neighborhood, looking for trouble no doubt. The magazines had been soaked in stolen water blessed over by priests; they’d been blessed to kill.

There had been no expectation for their golden vehicle to find itself looking like a honeycomb when it had been over. The other guys hadn’t been so lucky. Miroku had found his own body looking like the car. He’d passed out.

Now, Miroku was opening his eyes to a fuzzy whiteness. He wasn’t sure if he died;  _ Spirits _ members never said anything about what happened when they died. Did they hold a funeral for him? Did his father know? Did… Did Kagome know? Was she looking at him in his casket right now? 

There was a soft voice singing, and he could hear it. It was beautiful. It was angelic. The notes were from a sad and hopeful song, his favorite. It stopped.

“Miroku?”

That was her voice. Miroku felt his eyes get so heavy. His whole body was heavy. He wanted to sit forward and see her. He wanted to tell her that everything was fine, but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t lie to her. Just look at him. She deserved more than that, more than him.

Right when that first bullet had hit him, Miroku had felt regret spear his heart. Sadness had come with the second. He shouldn’t have felt those things, but at the third, he’d felt the unrequited feelings he’d held for her. The fourth had reminded him that she’d chosen that fox demon prick to date. The fifth had grazed his arm. The sixth had given him the sixth reason he’d never confessed to her; she hadn’t deserved to date some street running moron. 

She was gold compared to him.

“Miroku?” Kagome said again. Her shuffling was clear against the beeps of the monitors. 

Miroku opened his eyes and saw her right at his bedside, no fox demon boyfriend in sight. Kagome was wearing their catholic school uniform that he only liked on her. The green was more tolerable on her, more so than on any girl he’d dated. 

One moment she was standing there, then the next she was sitting beside him and hold his hand in hers. His forearm tattoos were plentiful and dark compared to the sight of her dazzling sobs. She shouldn’t have been crying over him; she had college acceptances coming. They had that Spanish final sometime next month. Spring break was almost there. 

Miroku wanted to speak, but he croaked instead. His tongue felt dry. 

“I-I-I-I’m so glad you’re aw-w-wake,” cried Kagome. She kissed his hand and pressed the back of it to her cheek. Her tears were hot and rolling down his hand. 

Gently, Miroku slipped his hand from her and lightly pressed his palm to her cheek. He wiped away a tear. His heart was noticeably beating so hard with the monitor tracking it. “K-Ka-” he began but couldn’t finish. 

There was a faint beep of walkie-talkies somewhere, and Miroku figured that they were either security guards or those uniformed pigs. He’d had his fair share of harassment from them. He didn’t need anymore, but he figured that he’d get it anyway. After all, the police were looking to dismantle Spirits as soon as possible. He’d heard it all from some guy who’d found a snitch in their midst. 

Miroku kept wiping away the tears. His hand was so big and rough compared to Kagome’s cheek, and her skin was reddening with his ministrations. “Please,” begged Kagome as she stopped his hand, keeping it against her face. “Please, don’t go back out there.” She spoke clearly now. 

He took in a short breath. Miroku remembered when they met in the library at their high school. He’d had no intention of actually studying when their teacher paired them for tutoring. He’d hardly known her, and he’d felt he’d tell her to fuck off and he’d go back out to do his own thing. However, he’d been stunned when he’d seen her at that large table with their textbook out and open. The brown of the shelves and table had been duller than usual. All it’d taken had been one look from her, and he’d been in trouble ever since. 

He’d vowed to protect her. He’d vowed to love her. He’d vowed to make it known that anyone in school messing with her meant messing with him. And they all knew. Even that fox prick walked on his toes around Miroku; he was notoriously dangerous, making some teachers nervous to have him in their classes. Kagome was untouchable, and she didn’t bat an eye as hanging out with him and not being bothered was so normal.

Miroku gave a weak smile. He couldn’t speak, but he just took a new vow. I won’t go back, he thought as he rubbed her cheek with his thumb again, answering her. 

“I love you,” said Kagome. She didn’t look at that fox prick like this, but Miroku knew that she didn’t love that guy, not yet, not ever hopefully. “Don’t go back!”

I love you, thought Miroku, more than you could ever know. He wanted to run his thumb over her lips. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, too, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. When he closed his eyes, he didn’t open them until he made himself present for his sentencing months later.

Miroku would serve a few years in jail and pick up Muay Thai. Kagome would write to him, and he’d write back. He’d get a picture of baby Shippo by the time he got out for good behavior. He’d learn that Kagome would be a single mother. He’d beat the living shit out of that fox demon that left her during her pregnancy. He’d be forced to stay somewhere to be monitored during his parole, and he’d never be caught for beating that same fox deadbeat. Kagome would date some chick and then some other prick he’d hated more than Shippo’s dad. He’d stay by her side as her best friend and protector, not a boyfriend.

He wasn’t even sure he could change that, but it didn’t matter. Kagome and Shippo came before him. And that was that.

**llllllllll**

Kagome only worked half a day today. It was Friday. 

She dropped Shippo off at school earlier this morning, and she was waiting on the clock to tell her that she could go home. She went into the freezer and pulled out the frozen cookie dough balls that she’d made earlier this week. The crisp sound of the heavy gray fridge door closing behind her was satisfying. She unwrapped the large tray of cookies, threw away the bag, and slid the cookies into the oven. She was on autopilot as she worked; this was fine. 

A song blared out from somewhere in the kitchen. Metal music? Kagome asked herself. She spied Bankotsu with his phone. He set the device at the corner of his station, lining up the edges, and continued his work. Kagome was familiar with all sorts of genres of music; Bankotsu’s tastes were a little heavier.

His shoulders were relaxed as he worked. It was understandable: Jakotsu called in sick. Their kitchen was quieter and even boring without Jakotsu instigating all day. To make it worse, Kagura’s day off was today, so only Akitoki Hojo was up front taking orders. Bankotsu sliced the deli meats with precision and focus, maybe with enjoyment, too. He always made the prettiest sandwiches Kagome had ever seen. When she’d started working there, Kagome’d had a crush on the man until K-- _ she _ came in. Bankotsu was too alarmingly pretty for a deli guy, but he also proved to be scary with the way he handled his knives. 

Atreyu was playing on the phone now. It was a song she’d heard some time ago, and it happened to be one she sang with Shippo, who couldn’t stop listening to it for a while: The Crimson. He’d never wanted to play the guitar so bad; the memory brought a smile to Kagome’s face. She continued to work at her station as she listened.

The guitar’s strings led into the song, and at first, Kagome bobbed her head without doing anything. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Her lips moved without making a sound. Bankotsu didn’t stir, so she continued. “ _ Will you still kiss me the same _ ,” she sang to herself, “ _ when you taste my victim’s blood? _ ” Kagome found herself moving to it as she moved around. She pictured her protagonist doing something like this, maybe dancing to rock and trying to figure out her next move. 

“ _ Will you still hold me when you see what I have done _ ?” joined Bankotsu. He was bobbing his head as he sliced with that scary precision. He was singing with her, and he was pretty good. He was able to mimic the throaty singing that the singer roared. Kagome joined him, but her voice wasn’t as deep. He peeked over his shoulder at her, and Kagome found herself blushing when they made eye contact.

“ _ Just love and breath _ ,” they sang together, “ _ try not to die again! _ ” They finally looked at each other fully. They inhaled deeply and belted out now. “ _ I’ll try not to die again! _ ” 

Bankotsu was smiling now. He stabbed the meat and continued singing with her. Kagome forgot the kitchen and sang with him as they bobbed their heads to the words. They sang the chorus together. Bankotsu did a convincing air guitar, while Kagome held an imaginary microphone. 

“ _ My heart is dead! _ ” roared Bankotsu and Kagome. “ _ And so are you! _ ” The song ended, and Kagome stood there, breathing deeply and laughing. 

Bankotsu was chuckling. It was nice. Another song came on, and they sang that together, too. Their work barely got done as they continued to air guitar and sing through the rest of Kagome’s shift. Their singing died down more when a rush came through. Though, they continued to rock out and enjoy the time passing. She wiped up her station, not looking to load more work on the next employee coming in. 

“I didn’t think you listened to this kind of music,” Bankotsu threw over his shoulder. He was doing his midday wiping of his counter. “I thought Adele was your icon or something.”

Kagome snorted before putting up the bucket of cleaner and rags. “I listen to all types of music,” she replied. Her heart jumped when Bankotsu grinned at her while leaning against his counter. She quickly set to organizing some other baked goods she’d made. 

There was no dropping his grin when he suggested, “Want to go to a concert?” 

Kagome’s head snapped in his direction, the bread and treats momentarily forgotten. Was he… hitting on her? “A concert?”

Bankotsu nodded. Crossing his arms made it hard for Kagome to miss the way his biceps and forearms flexed perfectly. How did a guy with a sweet tooth like him look like that? “Yeah,” he replied. “You know? Bands, people, booze. That concert!” He pushed off the counter and walked over to her, towering over her like Miroku did. 

“I, um,” started Kagome. Her stomach sank at the idea of a date. She fiddled with her apron. When did she become a high schooler again, awkward and nervous? She knew him for crying out loud! They worked together. She was a mom! Moms didn’t get nervous like this. How could she let him down easy? 

Bankotsu’s grin was still there. His eyes were just so damn much prettier up close. “If you liked the bands I listen to,” he further explained, “you’ll like this concert. It’s coming up in a month and a half.” 

“W-Who’s playing?” she asked. Kagome battled herself to settle down. She could have another guy friend, and maybe Bankotsu would look less irritable and yell less if they had something in common to talk about while Jakotsu was, well, Jakotsu. That’d work! She wouldn’t think of this surpassing friendship. It’d be better than dating again. 

Bankotsu’s face lightened up even more. “Sacred Jewel is playing,” he replied, “Demonic Sins joined in, and Tessaiga recently committed to playing a few songs from their recent album. It’ll be the best Band Bash in the city yet!” 

The last band name had her thinking. It sounded familiar now that she focused on the name. Nothing was clicking, so she focused on the timing instead. Kagome thought hard about where they’d be in a month and a half. They’d be entering winter, and the concert would most likely be inside. She smiled. It wouldn’t be so bad. “I wouldn’t mind,” she said. “Is there anyone else going?”

Bankotsu explained that Renkotsu, their manager, and some of his other friends were going. He also explained that he had an extra ticket since his brother had to bail on them. His explanation got Kagome to mentally sigh out in relief. “Looks like your shift is up,” said Bankotsu. He was eyeing the clock behind her. 

Kagome glanced back and smiled brightly. She turned back to Bankotsu to thank him for the invite, but he’d gone back to his station to get back to preparing more orders that Hojo just dropped off. The new guy paused in the doorway out to the main room. 

“Y-You have an awesome voice, K-Kagome,” he commented with rosy cheeks. Then, he disappeared. 

“Looks like the new guy got the hots for you, Kagome,” joked Bankotsu. He turned the music back on. 

Kagome rolled her eyes. “See you later, Bankotsu!” she said. He waved at her without looking away from his work. It was perfect. She really didn’t need some guy getting into her again. She clocked out and walked out of the kitchen, looking to catch the next bus and pick up Shippo after she changed at home. She paused at the door. A familiar energy brushed against her, and her heart did a terrible dance in her chest. It couldn’t be…  _ him _ .

Shaking her head, Kagome didn’t bother turning around to look. She walked out of the door and thought that maybe she was just imagining things. If  _ he _ were truly there, she’d have felt him a long time ago during her shift. She didn’t want it to be true, and so it wouldn’t. She refused to remember the heartache and the months of feeling like everything was crumbling around her. She simply wouldn’t. 

Her bus ride was too long, but it was perfect for her to write. She wrote furiously, not once looking up from her phone’s word document. The words flowed from her imagination and had her thumbs tapping the screen harder and harder. No one could break her trance until the bus speaker announced her stop, and by that time, the downtown people were gone. All that was left was herself. She ran up to her yellow ochre brick building and ran up her stairs two at a time.

Kagome ran into her room, but she didn’t change or even think about planning the rest of the day for her son and herself. She dropped to her knees, planting her hands onto the flooring. She’d just mopped yesterday, so the flooring was smooth under her palms. She stared into the cracks of the tile and felt something coming up. Her mouth opened, and she screamed with hot tears running down her face. She could still feel  _ him _ ,  _ his _ energy caressing her own as if it hadn’t been the very feeling associated with ruin.

The flooring was wet now, but Kagome didn’t care. She continued wailing; it was still so raw. 

**llllllllll**

Sango lied in her old bed with Kohaku lying down next to her. He’d grown up too much since she had last seen him. Not at all surprising that a few months away would give him time to catch up to her height. His brown hair was messy and sticking up everywhere. His childish excitement put to rest in the light of the moon. 

He was at peace. Sango couldn’t say she was familiar with it. 

She checked her phone and swiped up to check her notifications. Nothing. Inuyasha must’ve fallen asleep. Ayame was too busy browsing Boystown with their cousins to answer. And Koga. Koga was probably up. He was like her in that way. 

Opening up the messages app, Sango typed in Koga’s contact information and saw the old conversation they had just yesterday. Something about a TV show she really didn’t care for. “You up?” Sango typed into the keypad. The message made a little wump sound when it was sent. She set the phone against her chest and stared up at the clear white ceiling. Her fingers tapped the sides of her phone as she waited. 

It couldn’t take this long, thought Sango. 

She calculated the days again. The calendar opened up in the clear of her imagination, and she highlighted the days she and Koga were able to talk since the end of their tour. There wasn’t a clear pattern. 

He’s not aloof, Sango thought with a soft bite of her lip. She remembered him as the loud chess player from high school and as the guy who played rugby instead of football. Sango couldn’t attend his games because her dad kept her home to study on weekends, but she’d see him practice all the time during her own club activities. She remembered bringing him little snacks to his locker and relishing the jealousy of Ashley and Rosie, the two popular girls who had vied for Koga’s attention. In return, Koga had helped her with her books and gym bag, and Sango had pictured their hands coming together. They never did. 

Inuyasha had been supportive, while Ayame had complained that Koga had been a moron to not see Sango’s feelings. It had seemed written in the stars since she and Inuyasha had bumped into the cousins having a bloody fistfight. Yes, the stars and blood, and the blood and stars. It couldn’t have been a coincidence.

The phone buzzed in her hands. Sango lifted the phone and saw a reply from him, her Koga. “Yeah, what’s up,” he replied. Sango’s heart hammered against her chest; she resisted getting up in an excited manner for Kohaku’s sake. It was definitely high school again by the way her whole body felt like fireworks.

“I was wondering if you’d like t…” Sango started. “No.” She deleted it and cursed herself as she knew Koga was probably watching the little dots on his screen jump in an indecisive way. “Can’t sleep. What are you up to?” Sent.

Casual. Smooth. Not desperate. Well, maybe just a little. They finished a concert a few days ago and were taking a short break; she could be a little selfish. 

“Netflix,” replied Koga. He sent a second message right under that. “Scary movies. You?”

Sango licked her lips. “Thinking about u…” Sango began before deleting it. Again. “In bed…” Was she going this route? Could be innocent. “...thinking about the stars.” Sent.

Koga’s message dots were doing their little dance for her now. They stopped before picking back up. “What’s in the stars?”

You, Sango thought. I just love hurting my own feelings! Why can’t I just say it? To him? It shouldn’t be hard now!

“Gases and years of discovery to be made,” Sango typed. She hated it. She cleared the message and sent a gif of a happy lady jumping up and down. She followed that up: “My future.”

“You want to be an astronaut?” asked Koga. 

Sango slapped her own forehead with the palm of her hand. He had to be joking as if they were  _ just _ friends. She imagined him sitting on his bed-couch in his small ass apartment with the phone resting on his cut abdominals. She could forgive his playfulness. “Not exactly,” she replied. “I was thinking…” She left off at the dots.

“What’s the matter?” Koga said. 

Sango bit the inside of her cheek, an upgrade from her lip. “Can I come over?” she asked. “I feel congested at home. I can’t think.” It wasn’t all untrue. Her father had spent all of dinner asking about when she’d go to college. 

The silence was loud, and Sango wished for car noises or the whoosh of the strong wind. Anything. Most of all, she wanted these noises while in her Koga’s apartment. She wanted to be on that silly bed-couch thing with him, watching scary movies and enjoying all the gore with him holding her close.

“I’ll come to you,” Koga texted back. “We’ll take a drive.”

Sango was taken aback. He should’ve said yes. Like a regular guy. Then again, Koga wasn’t just any regular guy. He never was; that was what made him special. 

Sango texted back a happy face and slowly rose from the bed. She got dressed in warm leggings, a crop top with a low neckline, an open sweater, and boots. She didn’t wear a bra, and she lightly dabbed on some perfume and coconut deodorant. She did this while looking out her bedroom window, hoping to catch a glimpse of his car before he texted her. 

Seeing nothing yet, Sango dug in her bag and pulled out the old wristband Koga had given her when they had become seniors in high school. He’d given it to her because she’d loved it and liked wearing it often. Of course, Sango had just wanted to flaunt a status that hadn’t been hers. The wristband was a brown fuzzy thing that wrapped around her wrist. She rolled up that one sleeve. 

A text from Koga let her know he was there, so she swiped up her house keys and her tiny wallet, all of which she shoved into the pockets of her sweater with her phone. Sango quietly stepped through the dark of her childhood home and exited quieter than a sneaking mouse. 

Koga’s car was rumbling with him waiting in the driver’s seat. The black Toyota was a clean contrast to the dusty cars and stuffy houses. Sango raced over to the passenger seat and let herself in. Koga was wearing sweatpants and a letterman jacket with the Bears logo on the chest. His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. His diamond eyes sparkled with that beauty Sango had recognized since day one. 

“Seatbelt,” said Koga. He was leaning back with one hand on the wheel and the other resting along the base of the open window. It was cool tonight, and Sango knew he liked driving fast with the wind in his face. 

Sango buckled herself in and relaxed in the seat. Her heart soared when he pressed on the gas and made the world a blur. She knew he could hear her heart beating. He’d probably think she was happy to just be in the fast car, but Sango didn’t care right now. They were together and driving toward Lakeshore Drive, Koga’s favorite expressway in the city. 

They remained silent until they were on that glittering road with the dark of Lake Michigan on one side and the sparkling city on the other side. Soldier Field, the Field Museum, and the Shedd Aquarium were left in their dust as Koga sped forward. It was now that Sango looked at him and wished that he’d had his hands switched. She wanted to feel her palm against his as she knew his hand would be large and strong, enveloping her feelings in their claw tips with such tenderness. 

They had a spot. 

Koga drove there. He parked. The window remained down. 

It was written in the stars and in blood. The blood and stars. Sango watched him looking out at the lake and saw his chest inhaling deeply. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to him. She purposely combed her hair to one side with her fingers, hoping to catch his eye with her wristband.

Koga didn’t unbuckle his seatbelt or look at her. He kept watching the lake’s waves and breathing in the night. 

There weren’t that many stars anyway. 

**llllllllll**

The library was quiet. The university students didn’t bat an eye as Inuyasha and Sango slinked into its book filled depths to locate their parents. His mother was probably in her office and preparing for lunch. Sango’s dad was most likely doing the same thing. It’d been a while since they all sat together and had a conversation at lunch. 

Inuyasha wore his sunglasses, jacket, and jeans, trying to look as normal as possible. He was glad that not everyone listened to Metal. Otherwise, Tessaiga would have a harder time getting around. Sango, on the other hand, wasn’t one to hide her true tastes. She wore her torn black jeans, an open sweater, probably Koga’s shirt, which was tied off with a rubber band to fit her size, and heavy boots.

The smell of coffee and sweat wafted up his nose. College students always smelled weird. They should’ve smelled like books and anxiety, but that didn’t seem to be the biggest thing students held onto when all gathered together like this. He snorted and walked through a pair of double doors with Sango trailing behind him. They didn’t pause or snarl, as much as Inuyasha wanted to, when people looked them up and down or openly ogled them. They were creepy, all of them.

Sango sneered at one guy, and he quickly walked away with his hands tightly grasping his bookbag straps. Inuyasha wasn’t a fool; he noticed when they met up earlier that she was in a foul mood. He did try to ask if she wanted to talk about it, but Sango didn’t say a word, insisting she was fine. 

He hadn’t bought a word of it, and Inuyasha knew she was completely aware of that. She’d talk when she was ready.

They made it to a door with a plaque on it: Izayoi Tanaka & Haruto Ito. Their parents have been in this office for a long time, and the plaque’s age showed with the rusty edges and lackluster shine. He knocked and heard that familiar chair squeak before a series of footsteps approached. The door swung open, and Izayoi stood there with a bright smile widening across her face. 

“Inuyasha!” Izayoi exclaimed before she threw herself at him. Inuyasha caught her; he was used to his mom getting overly excited about his return. Plus, he didn’t mind. His mother was his number one fan, and he preferred her praise to the world’s. “I’m so happy to see you.”

A smile was on Inuyasha’s face as she held her and allowed her to rub his back. It brought back all the nights he’d spent in her room to protect her, and he’d ended up sleeping with her rubbing his back. He’d been a small child back then, and he’d grown out of it when he’d turned eight, determining in his young brain that he’d scared his father off for good. 

“Hello, Ms. Tanaka,” greeted Sango. She waited beside Inuyasha until Izayoi let him go. 

“Sango!” gushed Izayoi. She gave Sango a brief hug. “It’s so good to see you.” She backed away and looked at them both. “I’m super excited to have lunch with both of you!”

“And my dad?” asked Sango. She peered into the office, but there wasn’t anyone in there. Inuyasha could tell his mother was alone today. The smell was solely hers with Mr. Ito’s being more than twenty-four hours old. 

“He didn’t come in today,” replied Izayoi. “He took the day off to go on some hot date.” She smiled with her hands on her hips. 

“A date?” queried Sango. 

Inuyasha glanced at Sango. She didn’t appear off-put by it or disappointed. Then again, he was more than aware of her dad and his thoughts about Sango playing in a band with little clothes on. 

“Yeah,” replied Izayoi. She paused. “Didn’t he tell you?” There was a drop in her voice. She was making that face, and her lips were tightening. 

Sango crossed her arms. “Guess not,” she sighed with a roll of her eyes. The sour look on her face didn’t go unnoticed. 

Inuyasha wrapped his arm around her, but she didn’t hold him back. This was fine. Now both of the women he cared about were in a low mood. Not fine. His mother probably saw something familiar in Sango’s face, but Inuyasha didn’t want to read into it too much. “I-I was thinking we could get sandwiches,” suggested Inuyasha. He rubbed Sango’s shoulder now, hoping she’d relax a little and not dwell on her dad. 

“That sounds like a great idea,” said Izayoi with a very much forced smile. She ran back to her desk and retrieved her purse. “Come on. There’s a new place on campus I want to try.”

With one arm wrapped around Sango and his mother arm looped in the other, they walked out of the library and across the university campus. Inuyasha ignored many of the looks he got from pretty much everyone. He was aware his mother didn’t look a day over twenty-six with her soul marks visible even through her lightly applied blush. Sango was around his age. Inuyasha knew he looked like some playboy walking with two women on his arms. 

Waves of students walked around them, and Inuyasha continued to ignore them until they got to a sandwich shop. It was very much named for the university, and it had old uniforms in frames, wooden tables that used to be doors, and neon lights everywhere. There were smells that came from the bathroom as much as they did from the kitchen. It was overly bright with clownish colored walls. Just by looking at the floor, he knew it was greasier than the burgers this place served. The place was a personal attack on all of Inuyasha’s senses. 

“Students have said this place was good,” said Izayoi. Both Inuyasha and Sango looked right at her, but she didn’t budge. “What?”

“How did you learn about this place?” asked Sango. Just from her glancing around, Inuyasha knew she was on his side: this place was clearly meant for college students who didn’t give a shit about where they ate. 

Izayoi tapped her chin. “Students kept mentioning it to me,” she explained nonchalantly. “They’d come up to me and say something like  _ Oh, this place on fifty-fifth street is great. _ ” She smiled at Inuyasha and Sango. 

Nodding at her answer, Inuyasha swallowed his distaste for just about the entire building and continued toward the counter. They ordered burgers and fries to share. Shakes were also ordered, and Inuyasha definitely ordered a chocolate one, much to his mother’s protest. They occupied a booth by the window and chatted about Izayoi’s investment in the books, Sango’s idea to get a tattoo along her navel to show off during concerts, and Inuyasha’s idea of another singer for Tessaiga. 

“You didn’t even pitch it to Koga and Ayame,” pointed out Sango as she sat back in the booth. It groaned under her movement, but they all knew it didn’t budge under her. 

Inuyasha shifted, too, and the seat refused to allow him comfort on his own butt. He growled lowly at the seat; his mother must’ve heard since she was giggling. “Well,” he said with a cleared throat, “I wanted to talk about it with you first.” They hadn’t had a chance to actually talk about since the concert, and the band decided to take a couple of weeks off to relax after all of the performances. 

“What kind of singer are you looking for?” asked Izayoi. “You could probably put up audition flyers around here with the school’s permission. I’m sure you’d attract plenty of attention from the choir in the school.”

Sango shook her head before pressing it against the backrest of the booth. “He wants a singer from Spiffy’s kitchen,” she enlightened. There was a lace of dry humor in her voice. She did know! Just like Inuyasha knew she did. 

“Plenty of singers come from humble origins,” added Izayoi soothingly. “What would this new singer do to benefit you?”

“That’d be hard to say,” Sango answered for Inuyasha. “She’d have to be something.”

Inuyasha opened his mouth to answer himself, but he was cut off by the waiter dropping off their shakes. He took his small foam cup and sipped it with a hum deep in his throat. It was so good and sweet. The cool contrasted nicely with his body temperature. As a half-demon, his body had a different set of normalities. Izayoi sipped her shake, as well, while Sango fiddled with the straw for a moment, bored.

“A female or effeminate lead singer could pair with me,” said Inuyasha, remembering his mother asked him a question before bliss entered his system. “Our music would have more vocal diversity, and we could attract a larger fan base if it works out really well. We already have a lot of fans who appreciate Sango as our human lead drummer. Our popularity could get better with another element.”

“Or worse,” offered Sango quickly and bluntly. “Only you and sometimes Koga sing. Your vocals are what attracted a lot of our fanbase in the first place. Actually, most of our fanbase is composed of women.” She eyed Inuyasha. “They listen because mostly you and Koga provide an alluring fanservice.” 

Izayoi stopped sipping her drink. 

“Fanservice?” asked Inuyasha. He raised a brow at that. He didn’t do anything for fans other than sing, perform, and sign whatever with markers they brought. He had signed plenty of boobs before.

Sango nodded nonchalantly as she brought up her phone and scrolled through Twitter. “Here are only a few,” she said, “and I quote:  _ I would let Inuyasha and Koga spit on me out of disgust, and I’d be flattered. I wonder if Inuyasha’s abs lead to a piece of metal I could wrap my hands around. Marry me, Koga. I want to bounce a coin off of Koga’s ass. Sango Ito’s boobs speak to me spiritually. Ayame is making me gay. Tessaiga’s music is mediocre but they’re hot, so they stay. _ ” She stopped there. “Our brand has been made for us.”

For a moment, Inuyasha was stuck. He could feel the air getting heavier at the table. His own mother was squirming in her seat. She heard all of it! “So the most popular tweets are disturbingly sexual,” commented Inuyasha in a low voice. He fidgeted with his cup. “Another singer couldn’t ruin that. Some fans remain in their weird fantasyland, and we profit. We still make good music.” 

Izayoi cleared her throat. That caught Inuyasha’s attention, but Sango was still playing with her shake. “Maybe just run that by the whole band during a meeting,” she said with finality. Inuyasha blushed, realizing Sango really read all that in front of his mother. 

“Oh sh--I mean, I’m sorry!” apologized Inuyasha. Their food got served at that moment, and Inuyasha was glad there was something there to distract them. “Let’s not talk about our brand like this again…”

Sango raised a brow. She didn’t eat. 

The rest of their lunch went smoothly. Izayoi talked about the little bearded dragon she adopted and cared for at him. His name was Mr. Mike Hat, like the dog from that one movie. Sango remained quiet and only commented here and there; her mood didn’t improve. Inuyasha could see his mother desperately wanted to comfort Sango, but even she knew that Sango didn’t talk unless she decided to do so. 

They all walked back to the library and Izayoi thanked them for spending her lunch with her. It was peaceful until Inuyasha got Sango in his black truck. As a friend, he backed off and understood her well enough to not bring it up. As a friend with a mom who just heard all of that, Inuyasha was dying to know what the hell was pissing her off to sway her appetite. Sango loved burgers. What the hell happened?

Being a good friend, Inuyasha didn’t push her. He drove her around and waited it out, but it didn’t come. Inuyasha texted the band about auditions, and he only got a response from Ayame. They were down for whatever. Koga said he didn’t care. Inuyasha asked about a meeting. No answers. He parked in an empty parking lot and sighed heavily. The cool greys of his car were soothing, but Sango was oozing anxiety and even sadness. He could see it in her eyes. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Sango bluntly. She remained looking again and putting on that facade that she wasn’t affected by her mystery pain, but Inuyasha could taste that salt in the air. He could  _ see _ the strain and red edges of her eyes. 

“Then don’t talk about it,” said Inuyasha. “You should let it out, though.” He leaned against the backrest. He waited. Nothing was happening. Sango was beyond stubborn, and sometimes, Inuyasha wanted to snarl and snap at her to just express anything! “Stop bottling it up and fucking cry!” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re torturing yourself again, and you get sick when you do that!”

“I don’t want to cry!” exploded Sango. Her eyes flashed at him. “I’ve cried enough!” The frustration was in the air now, but it lingered.

Inuyasha growled, squeezing the wheel with a creak. 

“Don’t fucking growl at me!” spat Sango.

“Then stop being so goddamn stubborn, woman!” he howled. “Just cry it out already!”

“There’s nothing to cry about!”

“Really.”

“Yes, really!”

“You were being short with me earlier,” growled Inuyasha. “You were being short with my mom! You fucking read those tweets when you could’ve just shown me instead. Your self-torture made you an asshole! Whatever fucking happened to you doesn’t give you leeway to treat my mom like that! If it were just me, I wouldn’t have given a shit, but that was messed up!”

Sango snapped her mouth shut and looked away. Her arms were crossed tightly against her chest. Her shoulders shivered for a moment, then Inuyasha saw her tuck herself against the door. She was stubborn enough not to make sounds, but she was crying. Within that minute, she turned around and flung herself at him. 

Inuyasha held her as she cried, and he already had a gut feeling as to whom these tears were about. Then again, she did return home recently. Could be her dad? The guy could be really harsh. It was Friday, and Sango was still riddled with heartache. 

“Meet me and Ayame at Cero’s,” texted Koga. “We’re getting drinks, so come by. We can talk there.”

Inuyasha didn’t answer right away. He waited. An entire hour passed, and Sango calmed down enough to just sit there in his arms. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” croaked Sango. Her cheek was soft against his chest, and her tears soaked his collar. He combed his claws through her hair, barely grazing her scalp. She relaxed further into his arms. He used to do this for her a lot more when they were in middle school and high school. She’d been under so much stress during all that time.

He could still hear her cries from the girl’s bathroom, and he could still smell her dried spit on her chin and neck. Sango had gotten a poor grade in a science class due to studying the wrong chapter. She’d be chastised for her mishap, and Inuyasha would sneak her out later that night to sit on the swings. The spring air would chill them, but they’d hold hands and share her worries. 

Inuyasha sighed, feeling his best friend move with his exhale. “You know I love you, right?” he whispered to her. He felt her nod her head, slightly bumping his chin. “I want you to be happy, and I know you don’t want to talk about it.” He stopped combing her hair when he hit a knot. His fingers worked the knot to loosen it. His mind went to Koga and Sango’s life long crush on him. She was hurting herself just doing this, running back to him and then telling Inuyasha about it when Koga didn’t give an answer or avoided the topic altogether. “I won’t tell you what to do. I won’t tell you how to feel or what you should want. No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for you.”

Sango clutched his shirt. “Thank you,” she whispered. They stayed this way for a little longer, then Sango sat up and suggested they do what Koga said. 

Everything was telling Inuyasha to hell with Cero’s and what was convenient for Koga. He didn’t want to take her there; he didn’t want her to see him having fun with someone else after whatever went down between them. Inuyasha agreed with Sango, however, and drove to Cero’s. If she said she was fine, then he’d back her up and pretend he saw that in her.

The place was pretty big, but the parking sucked. They had to park on the side streets and pay for it. The sun was setting now, so the breeze was cooler. The cars were all dusty, and the sidewalk was cracked. Cheesy lettering sat atop Cero’s building, advertising it as a restaurant and bar. The theme was an American bar with some cheap sombreros hanging on the wall with posters of international beers. There were people speaking Spanish and others whispering in other languages Inuyasha wasn’t all familiar with. 

The music was loud, but he recognized it. He recognized that voice and that spiritual power brushing against him with passion and ferocity. Inuyasha looked to a stage, where there were symphonies of movement and noise. His eyes widened, and he took off his sunglasses. Surprise, awe, and even excitement coursed through him. It was confusing. Then, he peered over at Sango, who was staring just as wide-eyed as he was, but she was clenching her fists and allowing tears to actually fall down her face.

For the first time in his life, Inuyasha wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew she wouldn’t go anywhere. Not this time.

**llllllllll**

Kagome waved at both Shippo and her mother as they drove off for the weekend. With what happened earlier, Kagome had decided to call her mother and have her take Shippo for the weekend. She needed time with her thoughts.

Wearing her black shirt and grey sweatpants, Kagome hoped to fill the day with TV and maybe some honest crying...again. Perhaps she’d call Miroku and have him come over. Or maybe she’d shower again. Maybe a bath? Writing her novel?

“Did I miss Shippo?” came a familiar deep voice. 

Turning around, Kagome sighed and apologized, “Shit, I forgot about chess Fridays starting up again.” She rubbed her face and mentally berated herself for forgetting. 

Koga walked up to her and opened his arms. Kagome walked into them with a reserved smile. He smelled like apples and cinnamon. His Bears letterman jacket crunched under her arms. His torn and oddly belted black jeans and casual chucks alone put her whole sweatsuit to shame. She remembered that before Miroku, there had been Koga. Ayame hadn’t been her friend too much, not since they’d had a bad date in the eighth grade. They were quite awkward about it until their late teens. But Koga. He’d been supportive and the most disappointed when they hadn’t gotten into the same high school. They’d hoped to play chess on the same team, and instead, they’d met at chess tournaments to play each other, being the best in their respective high schools. 

Koga had held the title over her each time, but he’d allowed her to keep the trophies. They were each proof of their friendship.

“How was your band stuff?” asked Kagome. She held Koga’s arm and walked with him up to her apartment. Along the way, Koga talked about traveling and touring. He talked about the competition they’d done so well in. Kagome didn’t have a Twitter account or an Instagram account, so she didn’t keep up with all of it. She barely had a Facebook. Despite her lack of presence on social media, Kagome preferred to hear everything from Koga himself. 

Koga sat at the kitchen table, while Kagome pulled out some water bottles from the fridge. “Have you listened to any of the songs I told you about?” asked Koga. He leaned on his fist. “They’re kid-appropriate. Shippo wouldn’t have learned anything  _ devious _ .”

Kagome smiled and put the water bottles on the table. “Shippo played the songs for us,” she answered while she pulled down her old chessboard from the top of her fridge. Before Koga had gone on tour and all that, the chessboard’s home was of convenience for both of them on Fridays. “I like them a lot, especially the one called Pockets!” She sat down and opened up the old box. “Shippo really likes that one. He listens to it almost every day, and he’s always asking when his uncle Koga was coming back to play chess. He’s outplayed his school team, you know.”

Chuckling, Koga helped Kagome set up the chessboard. “I taught him well,” commented Koga with no ounce of humility. Once the board was set up, he shrugged off his jacket and straightened out his white t-shirt. “Did you hear we’re playing in a Band Bash in little over a month? I want you there. You, Shippo, and Miroku. Backstage access and you’d finally get to meet the rest of the band.”

Kagome’s jaw dropped. “I got invited to that concert actually,” she replied. Koga nodded, pleased. The black pieces were on her side of the table. “A guy I work with is a huge fan of the bands playing. He gushed super hard about Tessaiga joining.” She worried her bottom lip remembering Bankotsu inviting her and her thinking that he’d been hitting on her. “Yours, too!”

Koga leaned back in his seat and grinned. “You forgot my band’s name, didn’t you?” He folded his arms. 

Kagome blew a soft raspberry and chuckled in fake disbelief. “Of course not,” she fibbed. She really wished she’d asked Shippo to play Pockets today and had told her which band it was that his uncle Koga played for. “Your band is Timmm-essssss…”

Koga outright laughed and rubbed his face. “Tessaiga,” he corrected with amusement still in his voice. “You already said our band name.”

“Right!” said Kagome. “That’s what I meant.” She grinned and gestured to the board. Koga was quietly chuckling and staring her down. Kagome sighed. “Okay, I forgot. I didn’t mean to.” She saw him shake his head and finally move his first pawn. 

“Shippo keeping you busy?” asked Koga. “That would explain all your forgetfulness.” 

Kagome moved her pawn. “He’s growing up faster than I thought.”

Making another move, Koga replied, “A demon child growing faster than a human child?”

Snorting, Kagome moved one of her pieces. “He’s above other demon children in intellect.”

“Touche,” admitted Koga. He moved his next piece. Kagome quickly moved her bishop. “So it’s like that, hm?”

Kagome smiled. “It’s always like that,” she said. This was nice. She wasn’t thinking about  _ him _ or the shittiest year of her life. They were playing chess and getting into it like they did in high school.

“Heard you singing at Spiffy the other day,” said Koga. “You impressed some people. Took everything in me not to tell them I know you. Knew you worked there from that one Facebook post you made like a long ass time ago. Skipped my mind that you might’ve been there that night. Heh. Shit, I had to kick Ayame to keep their mouth shut. They ask about you sometimes, you know.” He moved his next piece and looked up at Kagome with his bright and hopeful eyes. 

For the longest time, Kagome knew that Koga would get out of their neighborhood. He’d been talented as fuck, and those with talent never stayed in their neighborhood. She’d seen posters of him in some places, but she didn’t really remember anyone else other than him and Ayame. His success was outlined in his passion for the guitar and fated to fall into his hands. He did it. He didn’t meet shitty people who left their marks in his memory. He didn’t meet shitty people who showed up when he worked.

Fuck! Kagome thought to herself.

“Kagome,” said Koga. His smile fell. “Kagome, what happened?” 

“W-What do you mean?” Kagome found herself saying with a raspy voice. She touched her lips, finding them wet. She felt her cheeks, and they were soaked in tears. When did she start crying? Before she could even come up with a response for his asking the same question again, Kagome felt his arms around her. She could hear him tapping his phone screen as he embraced her tightly. 

Koga picked her up and walked to the living room, where he sat down with her and cuddled her. Kagome let it go. She cried into his shirt. The sound of her door opening and closing only minutes later barely registered in her mind. From the tattooed arms around her, Kagome knew it was Miroku. They were both there now: her best friends, the only ones who wanted to stick around as her friends after she’d gotten pregnant, the ones who didn’t talk absolute shit for her months of feeling huge and vomiting and crying over the damned bastard who’d left her. 

“What happened?” asked Miroku. He smelled like fresh mint shampoo. He wore a purple shirt and blue jeans. 

“I don’t know,” answered Koga over Kagome’s head. “She didn’t say.”

“I felt…  _ him _ ,” Kagome finally said. She tried to say his name, but it wouldn’t come out. “He was there. At m-m-my j-job.” The urge to scream rose in her, but she didn’t. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Koga’s waist and made room for Miroku to rest his cheek against her shoulder. Koga’s cheek pressed against her forehead. “It was faint, b-but it was definitely  _ him _ .”

Kagome knew she didn’t have to say his name anyway. Miroku knew her more than well enough to know whom she spoke of, and Koga had been caught up soon after it had happened. She felt Miroku tense. 

Miroku held Kagome tighter. He was pissed off. The tattoos on his arms were starting to glow, and Koga had to distance his arms from Miroku. 

“That guy had the gall to see you at work, hm?” asked Koga. The rises and falls of his chest were soothing. His heartbeat put Kagome in a calming trance. “I’ll tear the guy apart!” There was a growl in his voice, and Kagome could feel his fangs gently brushing her forehead.

“If anyone’s killing that motherfucker, then it’s me,” growled Miroku. He snorted. “That asshole has no business with you, not after that shit he pulled!”

It was all a blur. She didn’t want to scream or cry again. She just wanted it all to stop. “I… I just don’t want to think about him anymore,” said Kagome in a low voice. “I don’t want to think about him. Can we… pretend he doesn’t exist?”

Miroku sighed. “We can do whatever you want.”

**llllllllll**

With some texts and change of plans, they were all at Cero’s. The wooden table was a bit wobbly, but they were all able to pile on drinks and food they’d ordered. The lights were low, but the scattered Christmas lights kept things lively. The shared chips and salsa while talking about everything and sometimes nothing. 

Kagome sipped her margarita and had to stop. She was laughing now. Miroku and Koga were joking about the fight they had in high school at one of Koga’s rugby games. Kagome had always gone to his rugby games and brought Miroku with her once. She’d believed they’d make great friends. She’d been right after a scrap. 

“I was cheering for you,” said Ayame as they pointed at Miroku. They were wearing a tank top and baggy men’s jeans.

Kagura rolled her eyes. She and Ayame were staring at each other way too much. She looked away in time for Ayame to lean in toward her. It was easy since they were sitting next to each other. “Men,” she mouthed playfully to Kagome, who grinned around her straw. Kagura was in a tight dress and heels. Ayame’s type.

“Of course you were!” whooped Koga with grandiose humor. “You just didn’t like that I could kick your ass any time!”

“I’ve kicked your ass more times than you think!” rebutted Ayame. “Your empty fucking brain probably forgot all the other ones.” They flashed their fangs. “Must’ve done a good job if you think you won them all.”

Miroku laughed. He gripped Kagome’s chair to steady himself. “Damn!” he barely got out. 

The lights on the stage at the back of the restaurant turned on with an audible click. The karaoke machine was clearly up for grabs, and there were actual instruments there for playing. No one was moving from anywhere else in the restaurant. Some looked intrigued, while others glanced at the stage, either in hope or expectancy. 

Koga was texting something into his phone when he looked over his shoulder at the stage. “Oh shit,” he said, “I didn’t know this place provided instruments.”

“A great guitarist,” commented Ayame with their phone also in their hand, “but a head full of rocks.” Their phone was slipped back into their pocket. They sat back and stretched their arms, not so smoothly putting one behind Kagura. “We’ve been here enough to know this place does that, you moron.”

“Fuck off, Ayame!” grouched Koga. He got up and held out a hand to Kagome. “Madam.” He had a hopeful look again, but Kagome wasn’t so sure she wanted to sing in front of so many people. She’d only done it in high school choir class, not in front of super strangers. 

“A gentleman,” complimented Kagura. She sipped at her drink, ignoring Ayame’s outright slackjawed gape at her. Kagura simply licked her lips before guiding Ayame’s mouth shut with a touch to their chin. 

Miroku gestured for Kagome to go with Koga. “Go on,” he said. “Go sing.” A light blush dusted his cheeks. Must’ve been the alcohol. He wasn’t all that good at holding his liquor. Then again, so did Kagome. One margarita was helping her along.

Kagome smiled at Miroku before turning and taking Koga’s hand. When she got up, her skirt billowed around her elegantly. Her crop top showed just a little belly, but she didn’t mind. She looked good, and she knew it. Her shoes glided across the floor as she followed after Koga, hand in hand. They made it to the stage, and Koga immediately went for the guitar. He tuned it, while Kagome looked through the virtual menu on the karaoke screen. 

“Hey,” said Ayame. They grabbed the other guitar. “Pick a cool song I can play to.”

“Trying to impress someone,” joked Kagome. 

Ayame snorted. “So what.” They were seriously focused on tuning the guitar, occasionally glancing in the direction of their group’s table.

Kagome shrugged. She turned back to the screen. Adele’s “Rolling in the Deep” was staring her in the face. She sucked in her lip and tapped on it. Ayame’s and Koga’s screens by their instruments lit up with sheet music to play to. 

Koga gave a wide grin. “Adele again, huh?” he asked. 

The music began, and Koga and Ayame began playing their guitars with absolute harmony and drifting focus. Kagome faced her microphone and opened her mouth. “ _ There’s a fire starting in my heart _ ,” sang Kagome. Her heart picked up the pace. One face appeared behind the lids of her eyes in every blink. “ _ We could’ve had it all! _ ” Her vocals reached the ceiling and spread out like fire. “ _ Rolling in the deep _ !  _ You had my heart inside of your hand, but you played it... _ ” She sang and sang with people cheering from their seats. They were feeling her words as if they were really her own. There was a connection, and she didn’t want to let it go. She could faintly hear Miroku and Kagura yelling her name with whistles and howls. “ _ You played it to the beat… _ ”

At that time, Kagome felt another familiar energy. It wasn’t any of her friends. They were fine. This energy was nervous. She ignored it as Koga chose Tessaiga’s “Pockets.” Kagome didn’t care. She’d heard the song plenty of times to know that two people sang that one, and Koga’s vocals were one of the originals. 

Koga and Ayame stepped up next to Kagome and played their guitars. It was natural. It was beautiful and organic. The wild of it flowed through her and came from her throat. “ _ I don’t remember your face _ ,” sang Kagome. “ _ It’s a devil’s smile! The knife in my back! _ ” As she went on, people were getting up and holding out their phones. Kagome honestly didn’t consider people would record her doing this. Ayame and Koga were waving their loose hair as they played with passion in their fingers. Why wouldn’t they? This was their music. Koga joined her in the chorus, leaning into her microphone: “ _ Your lies! Your lies! Made pockets in my soul! Your lies! Your lies! Made pockets in my soul! _ ” They broke apart for the guitar solos.

People were screaming. Did they recognize Koga and Ayame now? Could they see the famous hair and tattoos that made them specific to their namesake, Tessaiga? 

“ _ And now I! _ ” Kagome and Koga sang together again. “ _ Now I can’t look you in the eye! Your lies! Pockets! In my soul! It’s pain! Know what I say? Forget you! _ ”

The song ended, and before Kagome could catch her breath, Koga hugged her and gave a chaste kiss to her forehead. “That’s my girl!” yelled Koga so Kagome could hear him over the cheering. 

Kagome laughed and wanted to take a break now. However, she saw a familiar brunette walk onto the stage and take a seat at the drumset behind them all. Koga let her go to look over his shoulder at the new arrival. Ayame did the same. They were greeting her, but the drummer wasn’t saying anything. Kagome turned around and found herself staring up at a pair of golden eyes shrouded in silver bangs. 

For a moment, Kagome was frozen. She wanted to run, but her feet remained planted. Before she could feel a scream coming up, his lip raised to show a fang at her. This energy. She’d seen it before. Who was he?

A song started playing. This was the half-demon! She’d met him. His ears were alert and pointed toward her. There was a challenging gleam in his eye, and Kagome found herself getting pissed off. He had bumped into her days ago and had been rude as fuck about it. Now he was challenging her. Challenging her to a song?

The guy glanced at the screen, and Kagome followed to spot “Moth into Flame.” Metallica. She wanted to scoff. Who didn’t know Metallica? She didn’t shy away from the task as the drums and guitars started up. It was all so melodic and flooded under Kagome’s skin. Adrenaline filled her. This silver-haired asshole started it off. 

“ _ Blacked out, pop queen, amphetamine _ ,” sang the asshole out to the screaming crowd, “ _ the screams crashed into silence! _ ” His voice was strong, heavy, deep, and energized. He sang like he was pissed and happy all at the same time. His hair swayed with him, and he moved with such gusto that all eyes were trained on him, leaving away from her.

As he sang another verse, Kagome noticed people were taking even more pictures and recording them. They were screaming Koga’s band’s name. Glancing at them all, Kagome realized she was staring at Tessaiga. 

Not looking to be left behind, Kagome dipped her brow and joined the chorus: “ _ Bulletproof, kill the truth, you're falling, but you think you're flying high, high again! _ ” Kagome’s mouth was open and releasing these lyrics. She was taking them back and owning them as much as this prick next to her. The guy actually looked at her with raised brows, and people were watching her with encouragement on their lips. It was intoxicating. Better than liquor. “ _ Same rise and fall, who cares at all? Seduced by fame. A moth into the flame! _ ” She carried them just as deep and strong as she could, not caring that her throat wasn’t used to doing this so much. 

The crowd was alive again. People were at the stage and screaming the words with them. The silver-haired adversary walked up to her, the lyrics strong on his tongue, but Kagome didn’t back down. “ _ Sold your soul _ ,” continued Kagome and the silver-haired asshole together. They were staring into each other’s faces, heated in a way that only they understood. “ _ Build a higher wall. Yesterday. Now you’re thrown away! _ ” She didn’t take it all up, though. She’d let him believe he was at the helm. She accented him and finished the song just as strong. They broke apart and faced the crowd. There were so many flashing lights and sounds that made Kagome smile. 

“That’s my friend!” yelled Kagura from afar. 

Kagome took in a deep breath of air before feeling Koga holding her again and telling her she was so cool. There were pictures. No doubt for him and… what was his name? People were yelling  _ Koga _ and  _ Ayame _ . Who was Sango? Who was Inuyasha? Kagome hugged Koga back. More whistles. More pictures. More videos. Suddenly, she wasn’t thinking of silver hair or anything. It was just the dark of the day.

Her heart was beating so fast, and her energy was so high that Kagome felt like she was flying into this Chicago night without wings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Hope this chapter is pleasant. Thank you for the positive vibes and kudos! I appreciate your feedback!
> 
> If you’ve never heard “Moth into Flame” by Metallica. I suggest it. Listen to it with Lady Gaga on there; it sounds so cool with both. That’s kind of how I pictured it when I wrote out the last scene with Inuyasha and Kagome. Hopefully, that shows. 
> 
> I love this story! It’s so fun! I legit started chapter 4 already. :D
> 
> I’ll see everyone in the next update!
> 
> -W


	4. Famous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some more history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Ruddcatha! You helped me out a lot, and this chapter is way better because of your wisdom. :)) You rock!
> 
> -W

The beat of the music lulled them as they swayed back and forth on the black tile dancefloor. There was a stickiness under their chucks, but they didn’t care. All that mattered was the howling of their blood pumping through their veins and the alcohol in their hand. They slurped the rest down, enjoying the burn going down their throat and the cool of it running its course down their neck. The collar of their shirt was soaked now, but they were fine with that. Tonight, they were here to enjoy everything. 

A sweet scent and seductive energy grazed theirs with harshness, sinking in and demanding their attention. Ayame licked their lips before ditching their glass at a random table. That energy was strong and made their fangs elongate, expecting a prize between them. They liked it.

They peered through the hazy veil of people, music, and smoke. Right across the room was a woman dancing, alone. She was dancing alone. Why was she doing that? It was then that they noticed she had multiple dance partners. Ayame puffed their chest to exaggerate their shoulders. They certainly put enough work into their appearance, looking more masculine and strong. They preferred it to the wished femininity that their father wanted for them. 

The dancing woman was a whirlwind of dark hair and twirling hips. The energy was coming from her. They caught her red eyes and grinned in a way that Ayame knew women liked. As they got closer, they realized that this woman was none other than Kagura herself. How didn’t they notice? She was glamorous, soaking up the attention of women and men alike. Ayame slipped between everyone and got to her, not letting their eyes leave each other. 

Kagura raised her chin at them. She was not coy as she ran her hands lightly over Ayame’s arms, starting at their forearms and ending at their shoulders. Ayame felt their lip twitch as they crowded in closer. Kagura licked her lips before turning around and dancing along Ayame’s gently swaying body. They’ve been craving her since they’d met her at that karaoke bar days back. What luck!

Ayame guided Kagura’s body until they spun her around and pressed her to the wall. They were so close. They could smell the subtle perfume that Kagura had worn before, the one that they complimented. She was looking right back at them, challenging them to carry out this bold mission. 

Their lips drew closer in answer. Kagura met them halfway, and they both hovered. Ayame saw her lips right there and wanted nothing more than to just swallow her voice and show her what they could do with her,  _ for _ her. They’d left on unclear terms the last time they’d seen each other, and Ayame didn’t intend for Kagura to escape this time. Their noses touched. Ayame’s hands were on her hips. The music suddenly didn’t exist. The sweat-filled air was flavorless on their tongue. Ayame pressed their lips to Kagura’s, enjoying the smooth gasp from her slim throat. 

They were brought together. It had to be in the stars or whatever Sango liked to say. Whatever it was. It took too damn long for their tastes.

**llllllllll**

Inuyasha was six when he first met his father.

Toga. The Inu no Taisho. The Great Dog Demon. The Don of the Inuyokai Family. 

What a blowhard.

Inuyasha was indulging in the leftover ice cream on his shirt and overalls when he heard his mother gasp. His ears perked. 

He just finished coloring in a page of his gremlins coloring book not too long ago. The dull cream carpet in his room had crayons and markers everywhere. There were caps missing and some crayons stripped of their paper. The walls were powdery blue and covered in his drawings. Their bed was a mattress and blankets on the floor. He didn’t mind. His mommy knew best. 

They were living in Michigan at the time, having moved from Chicago just two years back. His mother was working as a cashier under a different name, and he’d have to spend time with his human cousins who liked to pull on his ears. The bedroom they shared was a crummy corner of his aunt’s house. His aunt was at work now, and his cousins were in school since they were a couple of years older than him. 

“W-What are you doing here?” came his mom’s voice. There was hesitation. It was weird. She was always confident when she spoke. 

“I’m here to take you home,” came some man’s voice. It was deep and smooth.

Inuyasha sniffed the air. His mother’s heavenly dew lotion was there, but there was also a different smell. It was maple and smoke. Kind of like barbecue. Did a man come into their house with his lunch still on his clothes? That was something he could understand. There was ice cream on his clothes right now. 

“I won’t go with you,” replied his mom. 

Inuyasha froze when he heard a light growl. That sound struck him to the core, and Inuyasha hated it. It made his body hotter than Flamin’ Hots, and his own voice was vibrating with little growls. He jumped to his feet and stormed the kitchen. It was a small space, so Inuyasha stood there at the doorway with his fangs bared. 

The tile under his feet burned with a coolness that should’ve soothed him. The dark wood of the door frame was scratched up, mostly his fault as he’d been put in time out there before. Standing there, the source of such a weird scent, was a man—no, a demon with silver hair, purple striped cheeks, and glowing gold eyes. He wore a fitted suit and furs down his back. 

He was a stranger. 

His mother appeared frozen and leaning against the counter. She was wearing her dollar store collared shirt and khakis. Her hair, dyed with blonde streaks to help her blend in, was cut short to the shoulders. Her eyes, her watchful eyes, were now stuck on this demon in front of her. The bracelet she’d bought from an old priest lay broken on the floor. He still wore his own, so why was it broken. 

The salty smell wafted up to his nose. His mother was crying. He hated that. She didn’t do anything to cry.

Inuyasha growled louder. That got this weirdo’s attention. He barely reached this guy’s hip, but he puffed his chest like he was seven feet tall. “You’re making mom cry,” he said in his squeaky voice. His brow dipped. “You should go!”

“I-Inuyasha!” exclaimed his mother. She broke from her state and scooped him up in her arms. “I’m okay, my love. It’s okay.” She was soothing him, but Inuyasha didn’t want to be soothed. He wanted a bite of this butthead who made her cry. 

The stranger gave an amused grin. Right to Inuyasha’s face! “Inuyasha,” he said. His voice was a deep booming ocean’s dream. The show of his fangs was like a shark’s smirk, and Inuyasha found himself wanting to bite him. 

“You should leave, Toga,” said his mom. She held Inuyasha close, and he held her back. “You’ve upset my son.”

“ _ Our  _ son,” said Toga without hesitation. He angled his head; his hands idly slipped into his pockets. “You haven’t told him about his father, have you, Izayoi?” He inhaled deeply. The swell of his chest was brief. “I just want to take care of my son and my woman. Is that such a big ask?”

Inuyasha felt his mother tremble. He flashed his eyes at this man, this  _ Toga _ . None of it was right. His mom shouldn’t be scared. This man shouldn’t claim to be his sire. His father was gone, wasn’t he? “I have no father,” he claimed outright. “My father died in an accident when I was born!” His mother grew still again.

Toga’s face became neutral. He took one step, and he was in their space, staring down at Inuyasha in his eyes. Toga’s hand surrounded his chin, but it wasn’t harsh or too soft. He couldn’t move. This guy was strong. “Your father stands before you,” he said. Then, his eyes stared right at his mom. “It seems you’ve been told a story, my child.” He leaned forward and sniffed, and his sight landed on the bracelet. He outright snarled and tore the bracelet off.

“Hey!” yelped Inuyasha. Heat filled his face, and his teeth were gnashing. Toga tossed the parcel aside, ignoring him. “That was mine! Mom gave it to me!”

It was then that Izayoi ran Inuyasha to the room and set him on the bed. “Stay here,” she said. She turned around and marched outside the room, a new conviction in her spirit. Inuyasha snapped out of his gaze and ran after her, but she closed the door.

“Mom!” yelled Inuyasha. He tried opening the door, but he couldn’t. “Mommy! Let me out! I’ll protect you!”

There was yelling. He stilled and pressed his ear to the door. “I am not moving from here,” stated his mom. “I’m happy here.”

A sigh. “You’re being foolish,” said Toga. “I can’t protect you here. This is wolverine territory.”

“My son and I have nothing to do with that,” came Izayoi’s immediate response. “We’ve been doing fine.”

“This isn’t fine,” replied Toga. “The Wolverine Family could hurt you to get at me.”

“The Wolverine Family doesn’t even know I’m here,” said Izayoi. There was heat in her voice. That was rare. “We’re not going. My son is not growing up around all of this.”

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Good. Then, go.”

Another sigh. “Go back to Chicago,” said Toga. Not a suggestion. “At least there I can protect you.”

“Are you even listening to me?” asked Izayoi incredulously. “We aren’t together anymore. You don’t get to boss me around! I—what the hell is so funny!”

There was a dark chuckle. “I don’t receive orders,” Toga replied, his voice stoic now. “I give them.”

Inuyasha banged on the door. He couldn’t get it open.

**llllllllll**

Koga didn’t sleep much. Full-blooded demons didn’t need as much as humans or even half-demons. It was late now. He was in his apartment and committing to the chin-ups that helped him get his mind off of everything. 

The bar was wedged perfectly in the doorway of his room, so he faced the small living room and dining room. He glanced every so often at the kitchen and at the open bathroom. The doors always stayed open, unless there was a guest. Without another soul in his home, the apartment was engulfed in darkness, and Koga’s eyes shined in the dark.

He growled upon the hundredth pull up before dropping down onto his hands and toes. Push-ups were too easy, but the neighbors were sleeping. It’d have to do. Sweat was building lightly on his forehead and his nose. His hair was getting stuck to his face. 

Koga huffed and rose to his feet, still feeling energized and ready to go. He glanced over his shoulder at the collection of guitars hanging on his wall. Another one lied on the workbench he had tucked against one wall, while the bed was tucked in a far corner by the closet. 

He had an urge to go to that unfinished guitar and put it together, but he resisted. His eyes wandered to the chessboard tucked away on the shelf of the glass coffee table. He suddenly remembered Kagome’s pained face. She’d never cried over chess, not even when she’d broken up with her baby daddy. Chess was their world away from the world. 

Slipping his phone from his pocket, Koga checked the time. It was Monday, so Kagome was working a late shift at a hotdog stand. No doubt there were drunken leftovers waltzing up to her and asking for a Chicago style dog without the relish or something. He bet Ayame was like that right now, and it occurred to him that drunk Ayame would be hilarious with hotdogs and fries. They’d spill ketchup on themselves because they’d gush about some chick they almost fucked or fucked in the bathroom stall. He knew it was all a curtain for the piece of work going on in Ayame’s mind, and he’d check up on them quite often, much to their annoyance.

He texted Ayame, knowing they wouldn’t respond. However, the immediate response of a middle finger was a surprise. Enough even to let him know they were okay and at the club. 

Koga showered. He thought about visiting that hotdog stand and taking Kagome home. She wouldn’t mind. She’d probably be ecstatic to see him more than once in a month, and the feeling would be mutual. If he hadn’t been such a coward all those years ago, he’d have dated her, given her a promise ring, and maybe discussed what family life could look like for them. He’d have been able to experience normality, but it still wouldn’t have been normal. He would’ve felt it. Perhaps she’d have known it, and his life would’ve ended up like this anyway.

Kagome had accepted him ever since he’d come out to her in high school. “I think it’s great that you know something about yourself like this,” Kagome had said, “I love you no matter what. You’re my best friend.” She hadn’t forced him to explain himself or asked him those silly ass questions that begged him to rethink his sexuality. Even Miroku had understood, and they’d talked over the phone while Miroku had been in prison. 

“That’s cool,” Miroku had told him. “You’re my best friend, dude. We’ll get you a flag for pride when I get back.” And they did. Miroku, Kagome, little Shippo, and Koga had gone to pride together. He’d gotten them up on a rooftop, where they’d relaxed under an umbrella and had watched the parade go on. Koga and Miroku had waved his flag and howled with glee. Kagome had worn her bisexual flag around her shoulders as she had held Shippo in her arms. It’d all been perfect. 

Platonic love. Koga didn’t completely get romantic love, but he understood enough about platonic love that he felt something strong when he looked at Kagome, Miroku, Ayame, Inuyasha, and Sango. He loved them all. He’d do anything for them. But—

His ringtone brought him from his musings. The water was running cold. Koga stepped out of the white shower and dressed in his room. The phone rang again, and he was able to see a message from Sango. Koga’s stomach fell deep into his core. 

The only person who didn’t understand was...her. Sango had said she’d understood very well when he’d come out years ago, but it all still blew up in Koga’s face.

His sweatpants suddenly felt heavy, and the tank top felt too loose. He glanced in the mirror hanging on his wall. Everything fitted fine. Koga pursed his lips and checked the message.

“You awake?” asked Sango. Her text was new in the blank space where her past texts should’ve been. Koga had deleted those. They’d been very ugly and asking about Kagome.

“Not again,” muttered Koga. He pulled up her contact information, and his thumb hovered over the block button. He’d block her and then go take Kagome home from work. He hesitated. Sango was his friend. She’d confided in him when she needed someone there to listen about her shitty old man. He’d listen and offered a hug when she cried over being the only person criticized at home. In turn, she’d defend him when girls or guys were being way too pushy in his DMs. She’d also had his back when some fans groped him during a signing. Another message interrupted him. 

“Please, I need to talk to you,” texted Sango. “It’s about last week.”

Koga snorted, remembering those nasty messages again. “The fucking nerve of this woman,” he growled. He felt the urge to just throw his phone, but he took in a deep breath and counted, eventually telling himself that he’d reply to her when he was calmer. He pulled up Kagome’s text thread. He spotted the laughing emojis they shared when a local magazine posted their picture on the front of their booklet. The title read  _ Sorry Ladies! Koga is Taken!  _ Kagome had told him the next time they met that Koga had to bring something signed; her coworker freaked out. He texted: “Are you at work? That hotdog stand, right?”

Dancing dots graced him, and Koga smiled. “Yeah,” Kagome replied. “What’s up?”

Koga smiled. “Need a ride home?”

More dots. “Yes, please!” Kagome texted back. “I get off in a couple hours. I’ll save you a hotdog.”

“You're the best!” Koga texted back with a flurried motion of his thumbs. He tossed his phone on the bed and took a black shirt from his closet. Then, he pulled out one of his blue performance shirts from a tour a couple of years back; he signed it. 

How long has it been since I had a hotdog? Koga asked himself idly as he slipped on the black shirt. He huffed lightly with a wide grin before stuffing the signed shirt into his rustic blue backpack. He threw in his wallet, as well. He wanted to be able to get Kagome something to eat that wasn’t hotdogs. The woman deserved a meal after hard work. 

Another text. Koga picked up the phone, hoping it was Kagome letting him know that she’d gotten off early. Instead, it was a message from Sango. “I’m coming to your place.”

Koga felt his heart leap and pour out a heaviness into his belly. “I’m not home right now,” Koga lied. He felt icky in his gut, but he needed some space. He’d told her she could come by whenever, but today was different. He added: “I need space.”

Maybe a drive will help, he thought. Right at that moment, a huge number of notifications flooded his phone. He sighed. This usually happened during the night, but why now? He slung his bag over his shoulder and pursed his lips as he saw a message from some stranger asking for a picture of his dick. 

“Classy,” Koga growled under his breath. 

Deciding to check the rest as he went, Koga scrolled through the Twitter notifications and left his apartment. A lot were DMs from random women and men, and his name was tagged in numerous posts that complimented his body, his hair, and his guitar skills. The ones that made him squirm were the ones that asked for him to do the strangest things. He cleared them all. 

Going downstairs, Koga looked at all the Instagram notifications, grinning when many were artworks and comments on how cool he was. Koga shook his head and cleared those, not looking to accidentally like or respond to anyone. He pushed through the doors of the building and entered the massive parking garage, where his car had a dedicated parking space. 

Koga got into his ride and sat in the driver’s seat while looking at the string of messages that Sango sent. They were getting a little choppy. She was probably crying. “Shit,” he said, feeling the guilt balling his insides. He texted her that he’d stop by for a bit, even though he felt different about it. He tossed his phone on the passenger seat and took off. 

As he drove, he entered a subconscious that lulled him. Drives always did that. The lights blurred, especially when he went down Lakeshore Drive, and the lift of his heart always brought him back to it. Like this, he didn’t have to think about Sango or his fight with “normality.” He just thought of how he felt and experienced the beauty of his home city.

Koga put on the radio and blared the first song. He didn’t care too much for pop, but right now, he’d need the hype of the energy to make him forget the pull in his stomach that coupled with the guilt. He bobbed his head and changed lanes, seeing that he was now south of downtown. Two songs later, he was pulling off the expressway and into Sango’s neighborhood.

One turn was all he needed, then Sango’s house was on his right side. He remembered the color it used to be when they were in high school, a weird purple. Inuyasha would sometimes get him and Ayame to tag along in sneaking Sango out of the house. He gave half a smile, remembering when they were all in his old ‘96 and driving off into the night with hoots and howls filling the air. They’d drank some stolen beer that Ayame got, and they’d talked absolute shit about the teachers who were such assholes. 

With that last thought in mind, Koga parked his car, turned off the radio, and texted Sango that he was there. It didn’t take long for her to come out and climb into the passenger seat. He swallowed the resurfacing guilt and  _ nervousness _ . 

Be a good friend, he thought. 

“Koga,” said Sango. She had her hands stuffed in the pockets of her sweater. Her hair was loose. The sweats on her legs were a sign that she hadn’t taken care to look  _ nice _ . “I’m glad you came.” Her voice sounded strained and even hoarse. The smell of her tears filled the air.

The corner of his mouth quirked. “Of course I’d be here for you,” replied Koga, hoping to clear the sadness. “We’ve been friends since high school. Not stopping any time soon.”

Sango looked slightly disappointed, but she quickly changed her expression. The sound of her heart was beating at a high rate, rivaling how she beat the drums. It didn’t sound right. “I want to talk to you about it.”

Koga licked his lips and forced himself to stop from sinking in his seat. “What about it?” he asked, already knowing this was about karaoke with Kagome and Ayame. The number of notifications on his phone and the number of tags to the band’s Twitter and Instagram rang in his head. The band page didn’t answer a thing about his relationship with Kagome. This past weekend wouldn’t go unaddressed. 

“Is…” started Sango. She stopped and sighed. “Are you dating her?”

Koga’s voice got stuck in his throat. Why would that matter? He knew the question was coming, but it still didn’t matter. He took too long to answer.

“For how long?” asked Sango.

Right at that moment, Koga’s phone buzzed. “Fuck,” he said in a low voice, but he didn’t look at his phone. He was annoyed now. The sound made it look like Kagome was texting him for the reason she thought, even though it was probably some asshole on Twitter. He was annoyed that Sango wasn’t apologizing. Before he could say anything else, Sango cut him off.

“Where does that put me?” asked Sango. There was a bitterness to her voice. One hand was on the storage box between them.

Koga withheld a tired sigh. More guilt flooded his system. “Sango,” he said in a low voice, “you’re one of my best friends. Nothing changes between us.” Against his better judgment, he took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the back of it. “Why are you so worried? I would never drop you like that. I don’t drop my friends.”

Sango hiccuped, and Koga immediately felt himself panicking at the immediate change in mood. He squeezed her hand. Though, Sango tore her hand away and threw herself at him, hugging him around his neck. Koga wrapped his arms around her and rubbed his hand along her upper back.

“I love you,” said Sango. Her breathing was shaking, and Koga could feel the hesitation in her body against his chest.

“I love you, too,” replied Koga. He wasn’t lying. He loved her as a guy would love his sister. He’d protect her, comfort her, and soak up her company as she did his. “I’m not dating anyone, Sango… Kagome and I have been friends for a long time.” As he held her, he spoke softly. He hoped his words would calm her down and reassure her somehow. “Sometimes, she needs me just like any friend does. It’s not wrong of me to spend time with her, too.”

Sango stiffened. She squirmed before back away onto her side of the car. “I’d never tell you to stop seeing someone you like,” she said. Her voice sounded so exhausted, so defeated. 

Koga shook his head and repeated, “Kagome and I  _ aren’t _ dating. I don’t like her like that.” When Sango’s red eyes caught his gaze, Koga closed his mouth. There was disbelief across her face, but there was also betrayal. He knew the look of betrayal too well. It haunted him sometimes, and he hated seeing it on someone he cared about. 

“Okay,” said Sango. She took out her phone and opened up Twitter, deleting the notifications that were all about him and Kagome. Her phone must’ve been busier than his. 

Without thinking it through, Koga said, “I think you should meet her and Miroku… I think you’d like them, and they’d love you!” He listed the reasons why. They were reasons why he loved being her friend, and they were reasons why he thought she was a great person to look up to. His heart was in it the more he talked, and he hoped she would agree. 

Sango shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I can’t look at her in the face and pretend that I didn’t feel what I felt when I saw you… kiss her.”

Koga blinked and reared back against his door. “You… Why does that matter?” he asked. All that good feeling was gone now, bringing him back to reality. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it. He wanted her to hear herself say it. He wanted to get the chance to clear the air. It was now or never as far as he was concerned.

Just like that, Sango shook her head again. “It’s stupid,” she said. “Nevermind.”

“Your feelings aren’t stupid,” replied Koga. He didn’t like it when she bottled things up. She could pull that with Ayame maybe, but he knew better. “Why does it matter that I kiss Kagome?” he asked. “It’s not romantic.” He and Kagome sometimes kissed on the cheek, and they shared that when they were proud or really happy. He’d been proud of her that day. 

Sango sucked in her lips and closed her eyes, the tears sliding down her face. “I’m sorry, Koga. I got to go,” Sango whispered. She quickly exited the car and closed his door. 

Koga was stunned for a second before he stepped out of the car to go after her, but she was already inside. The woman could be fast when she wanted to. “Fuck!” he said before sitting back down in his seat. He pulled up his phone and text her: “Sango, we need to talk about this at some point.”

There was no answer. 

“Sango?”

Nothing. 

Koga growled and banged his head against the headrest. All those times, Sango had been trying to get him to admit something or talk about his feelings for her, and now when he wanted to clear things up… He grimaced at the ceiling before looking at his phone and trying to text her again. When she didn’t answer, Koga sighed and decided to drop it. Sango was in her shell, and she’d talk to Inuyasha. Then, Inuyasha might text him and ask him what happened because she’d still put up a fight.

It irked him that he made such a promise to Sango. To not tell Inuyasha. Ayame didn’t know, either, and Koga had to not tell his cousin because Sango knew that Ayame would blab about it accidentally. He hated keeping it to themselves, and Koga knew that Inuyasha could see how tense everything was between him and Sango in the studio. 

He pursed his lips as he pulled out of his parking space and made his way back onto the expressway. Ironically, “Blinding Lights” was playing on the radio. Koga felt the urge to ask Ayame if he could drink with them. Then maybe, he could release this pressure through his drunken state. Ayame wouldn’t remember a thing.

Shaking his head, Koga continued on. He drove until the hours passed, and he navigated to the hotdog stand that Kagome worked at. The hotdog stand was just outside the edges of a university neighborhood. Coming in, he could smell the greasy fries and sweating weenies before they were covered in condiments and dressed in bread. 

Kagome worked at the hotdog stand for a few years now. Koga remembered trying to tell her he had wanted to pay for Shippo’s tuition. Hell, like Miroku, he’d wanted to take care of her, especially after the first two harsh breakups. Miroku had told him Kagome was proud that way, and Koga had already known that. He and Miroku had been the only people outside her family who’d known how vulnerable and thinned out she’d really been after that douchebag had up and left. 

Koga and Miroku had struck a deal after Shippo had been accepted into a prestigious college prep school: they’d save for his college tuition. Every month, Koga matched what Miroku could set aside. The man worked hard at those construction sites like Koga worked his guitar. It was paying off. They’d be able to gift that money to Shippo when he graduated next year. 

The knock on his window brought him from his musings. Kagome was waving at him with a big smile on her face. Once she opened the unlocked door, the smell of hotdogs, burgers, cheese sticks, and fries hit him all at once. She sat down and closed up; a brown bag was pulled from the depths of her little book bag. 

“Hotdog and fries,” said Kagome, “with cheese sauce on the side.” 

Koga broke out into a full out grin. After rugby games in high school, they’d gotten hotdogs from a place down the street from the school. The dented bars on the window had made it look shady, but the cheese fries and pizza puff had spoken for it. 

“Koga?” Kagome said with a little wave in front of his face. 

Blinking, Koga took the bag and hugged her. He pressed his cheek to her. “I love you,” he said. 

“I love you, too,” Kagome said in a muffled voice against his shoulder. She patted his back. “You okay?”

Koga shook his head and said, “No.” There was a smile on his face when he said this. He’d break his promise to Sango. Kagome would know what to do. Even if she didn’t, it’d be nice to go to practice without so much weight on his shoulders. 

“You want to talk about it?” asked Kagome. Her voice was still muffled.

Koga nodded. “Yeah.” 

When he let her go, Kagome gave a reassuring smile and folded her hands to listen. Though, Koga didn’t want her to stay so far. He needed her strength, so he took her hand and held it, cradling her fragile hand in his own. Kagome didn’t protest; she squeezed his hand.

It should’ve been weird or inappropriate to be having this conversation in front of a hotdog stand, but Koga knew it was more appropriate than any other place to have it. It was like high school all over again. They were being themselves and no one could say anything to them that would break their little bubble.

“I… I slept with someone,” said Koga. He wouldn’t say her name like that. Sango didn’t deserve that. From the look on Kagome’s face, Koga knew that he could say more. This was something he loved about her; she wouldn’t judge. “I was on tour when it happened. I thought I was helping her by… letting her have what she wanted.”

Kagome pursed her lips, and Koga worried that she was judging. However, she was just worrying. There was even concern in her eyes.

“She knows I’m ace, Kagome,” continued Koga, “and she still loved me. At the time, I thought I was being selfish, that I was supposed to feel something, even if I didn’t. Even if I knew I was ace! I was rethinking myself and figured that everything would fall into place if I just gave in. She… She came to my room…”

It was then that Koga could see it all again. The gilded hotel and Sango in her robe. She’d been naked underneath, and Koga had known that. He’d smelled the pooling of her body and had seen the flush in her face and neck. Those thoughts had bombarded him and had told him to just let it happen, that maybe he’d been selfish with pushing her away for so many years. He’d let her in and had allowed her to show herself without her robe. He’d allowed her to sit him down and raise his body from its state of normality. He’d felt her around him; he’d felt himself reach into her and leave a part of himself. It was good, but the glow gave way to a different feeling. She’d said she’d loved him, yet all he felt was detachment and alienness.

With a vague brush over, Koga told this to Kagome. “She’s tried to hold my hand and engage me with kisses more often after,” Koga added. “I told her to stop after hearing you at Spiffy, and ever since, she’s been stiff around me… She still loves me, and I… I just don’t know what to do anymore. I just want to be friends again. We’re good a being friends! And I don’t have any desire to do  _ that _ again.”

Kagome squeezed his hand, making Koga notice that he’d been gripping his steering wheel and staring at the speedometer the entire time. He apologized and released his steering wheel, which was dented now. “You don’t have to do anything like that ever again,” said Kagome in a serene and soft voice.

“Yeah,” said Koga in just as low of voice. “I don’t know what she wants from me… No, I know, but I don’t think she wants to address it yet. If we talk about and I reject her… I don’t know.”

He felt her other hand cover his own, and Koga looked at her, seeing the patience and love in her face. “You already know what you want,” said Kagome. “You’ll eventually have to talk about it, and I think this person will have to accept that you don’t feel the way she wants you to. And it’s completely natural.” She smiled an encouraging smile. 

The smell of food had Koga thinking, Yeah, I’m glad I came for her. He thanked her and kissed her hand. With Kagome as his friend, Koga could face the world without owing it his feelings or his body.

**llllllllll**

Izayoi reshelved some books. The gray shelves were slightly dusty under her eye, so she figured she would tell the janitorial staff to do some dusting if they could. It didn’t escape her attention that there was a familiar head of snowy hair sitting at a table in the corner of the room. He was reading a book and pretending not to look her way. 

She sighed. He really thought he could blend in like that? Izayoi asked herself. Her blouse was more subtle than he was. He didn’t even try. That didn’t matter. She wasn’t one to hide. 

Walking over, Izayoi saw him make eye contact with her, and she almost paused, seeing Toga in his eyes for a moment. She didn’t stop. She kept walking until she met him at the table and sat down adjacent to him. 

“You should tell him I don’t need to be checked on,” she said firmly. 

A snort left Sesshomaru’s nose. “You belong to my father,” replied Sesshomaru smoothly. He looked at her from the book. “You don’t get the luxury of remaining outside of his knowledge.” He didn’t sound pleased; he never did. 

“I am not property,” hissed Izayoi. “I no longer love your father. We aren’t dating.” She remained poised when she said it. The marks were burning, and Izayoi knew he could feel how distressed and uncomfortable she was. He could feel the insecurity in her words, even if he didn’t know what she said.

“Yet here you are,” replied Sesshomaru. His voice betrayed nothing. “You’re exactly where you’re expected to be.”

Izayoi balled her hands into fists. “I’m not here for him,” she replied. Her teeth were as tight as her hands. If she learned anything about Sesshomaru, it was that he could be quite a little shit. She wondered how his own mother could stand him. For a moment, she felt bad thinking about that, but then she remembered that Toga was married and happy somewhere, protecting  _ his _ actual woman. He’d never roughly handled Izayoi or touched her when she’d rebelled against his bringing her back, but she’d come back anyway. She’d yielded to him as if she’d been his wife of demon lineage.

“If that is what makes you feel better,” said Sesshomaru, “then believe that as much as you’d like.” He really sat there, looking as calm and collected as his father. He was speaking to her as if she were a child. He’d had the same demeanor when he’d been the one to tell her that she’d never be able to formally marry Toga because the Great Dog Demon had already been married for hundreds of years. 

Izayoi sank back in her chair and nearly growled, “You look absolutely miserable. I’ve known since day one that you didn’t like me. Why don’t you do us both a favor and quit bothering me? Lie to him for all I care.” She stood up abruptly and marched to her office, but a surging pain went through all of her markings. She wanted to cry out, but she bit her tongue to keep from showing any weakness to Sesshomaru, who was probably watching her pause and shake. The burning was so hot and so unforgiving that Izayoi finally collapsed onto her knees. The hard surface of the library floor made such a loud bang with her knees hitting their dingy face.

“Izayoi!” came Haruto Ito’s voice. His footsteps were just as loud and quick.

Izayoi felt his hands on her shoulders, and she looked up at him, kneeling before her with his reading glasses and graying self looking at her with worry. She’d wished that she’d had this job during grad school. She’d wished that she’d met this man who would’ve been able to tell her that a dog demon had not been worth messing with. However, she thought of Inuyasha and took it all back. “I’m fine, Haruto,” lied Izayoi with a small smile. It was hard to smile this way with all the burning wrapped around her and planted on her face. “Please, help me up will you?” She took his hands and let him pull her up. No matter how old he got, Haruto never seemed to dull when it came to physical strength. 

“Your rebellious feelings are wasted,” came Sesshomaru’s voice. 

Haruto frowned. “Your usual visitor,” he stated without question. 

Sesshomaru was standing just beside Izayoi. She didn’t feel him coming. One gift her bond with Toga gave her was to feel other demons coming near. When did she become so weak that she needed to rely on his gifts? When did she lose control? When did it all really fall apart? When she let him make love to her? When they made eye contact in the 80s? When she came to Chicago for school?

Izayoi’s lip quivered, so she bit it to keep it still. Without even looking at Sesshomaru and briefly glancing at Haruto, Izayoi walked forward to her office, pushing down the burning. She commanded her body to defy odds. She commanded herself to take control, what little she could, and keep walking. She commanded her eye to not yield the burning that would cease with her tears. 

She sat at her desk and looked at the picture of Inuyasha, already feeling her body beginning to calm. For the rest of her day, Izayoi fumed at her desk and refused to go out until the very end. She packed her things, said thank you and goodbye to Haruto, who tried to stop her, and rushed out of the library and to her car in the parking lot. Izayoi sat in her car and cried. She leaned against the wheel and cried until her body couldn’t give anymore. She had to get home. Mike Hat needed to be fed one more time before she went to bed. 

The sun was setting by the time she drove into a nostalgic neighborhood. It was on the way home, so it was hard to avoid. Stopping at the red light, Izayoi glanced at a building that used to be Sassy Legs, a strip club where she’d worked in ‘85. The memory left a bittersweet taste on her tongue, and she pressed hard on the gas when the light turned green. She remembered before Toga. She remembered feeling like she could fly when she was on the pole, struggling with her bills her way, paying for school, and working hard on her routines to earn extra tips. She’d been so stressed, but she’d been free. 

The buildings were a blur until Izayoi stopped and pulled over to park in front of her house, a house Inuyasha bought her. The exterior was simple but elegant. The inside matched with thematic blues and modern decor. She marched inside and quickly fed Mike Hat, who was very excited to see her. The little lizard was trying to get to her through the tank, but Izayoi had to keep him in there for now. Izayoi stripped as she walked to her bedroom, then she dressed in some shorts and a sports bra. 

Izayoi all but ran downstairs to the basement and turned on her dancing playlist on her phone. She’d had a pole installed with mirrors around. This was her playground. This was her little bit of freedom in the suffocation of Toga’s condition, stay in Chicago and he’d leave her alone. Izayoi pursed her lips and hit the pole hard. She climbed, dropped, dipped, twirled, flipped, and wriggled herself to the music. 

Her reflections were the closest she’d get to an audience, so she seduced herself and pretended to fling off her clothing. It was no longer 2020. It was 1985, and she was the star of the night. She hadn’t met Toga. She hadn’t known anything outside of her simple but complex grad school life. She was bare-chested and ripping dollars from outstretched hands. There was cigarette smoke in the air, and the smell of liquor accompanied it. 

There was nothing stopping her from stripping her panties, but Izayoi winked at her audience and silently promised to show everything next time. She wouldn’t do it. She was a tease. She was good at it. 

80s club music blared, and the stage was covered in cheesy pink lighting. The curtains were a glittery mess behind her, and the neon signs were keeping everything doused in pinks, greens, and yellows. There were filled chairs and tables covered in beer mugs or beer bottles. Ashtrays held half-smoked cigarettes and butts that towered like anthills. Men were whistling in their tacky shirts and pants, while the men at the bar yelled the loudest with beers in their hands. 

All of her senses were clouded. She was lost. It was heaven, her own. 

The music ended, and Izayoi was staring at herself in a split in midair. Sweat ran down her skin, and her muscles were aching from being used for so long. Her reflection fit within one mirror pane. The cage was too small. She was a bird again. 

She settled herself on her feet again and walked across the smooth wooden flooring. Her feet were light on the cold wood as it rubbed uncomfortably against her. She touched the mirror with her fingertips. At seeing her sweaty and puffy-eyed image, Izayoi felt like crying again. The emptiness and dark of her stomach were gripping her now. She missed the freedom, so she swore. 

“I’ll dance again,” she said to herself. “I’ll dance again and fly.”

**llllllllll**

Inuyasha remembered her face and her flush as she sang with confidence. In his face. Koga’s friend-girlfriend-whoever had sang in his face as if she’d had something to prove. It’d been glorious. 

He’d never sang that hard in front of an audience with someone else. He’d always been the dominant voice. Koga was a good singer, but he was always background vocals. Inuyasha never knew a lady singer could pit her voice so high and deep with a switch. It baffled him in the best way. After “Moth to Flame,” Inuyasha hadn’t anticipated more songs being put on for them. They’d sang a range of songs from the metal genre, and that woman had put her spin on them without even looking to him for permission. Every word had been a challenge. 

Then he remembered the feel of her spiritual power and her barrier. It mixed with the fury in her eyes and the clear look of disdain coming from that guy he almost fought. That had been fine as he’d returned his fury by reddening his eyes. The lady hadn’t flinched. The night had finally ended when the place had been too packed, overwhelming the staff. They’d been ushered out the back door, and Inuyasha had gotten to see that douchebag hug Koga’s friend-lady-whoever with some other demon woman there. Koga had kissed her on the temple one more time before they’d left together as a large group, leaving him and Sango alone again.

Koga and Ayame. They both knew her. All along. What the hell?

Then, there was Sango.

She’d been thoroughly upset and had silenced her phone with all the noise it’d been making. Inuyasha had wanted to tell her that they should just hire someone to manage the social media, but she’d looked so defeated. They hadn’t said a word as Inuyasha had dropped Sango off at home. 

His phone interrupted his thoughts, and Inuyasha realized he’d written little to nothing for the new album. He sighed and saw he’d gotten a message from Sango. It was a voice message. The band was supposed to be there in less than an hour. He motioned to play the message for himself when a new smell entered his nose. What was it?

That scent was… it was familiar. He hated it. It was so stiff and full of maple. It was a basin of memories he’d rather forget. It reminded him of his father back when he was a kid, but it wasn’t his father’s. He knew who it was. 

Sesshomaru.

What made this worse was that Sesshomaru was in his studio. Tessaiga’s studio! Sesshomaru was looking out at the view of the city with his hands in his coat pockets and the fading light bathing him in bright orange. He looked every bit the asshole gangster in a suit with his mokomoko thrown over his shoulder. He couldn’t imagine who’d ever want to spend more than a minute with this guy. 

Sniffing the air to make a half-assed insult, Inuyasha caught the hint of dew lotion, his mother’s scent. He stiffened. This asshole saw his mother. He growled.

“You took too long to notice,” said Sesshomaru. He didn’t even glance over his shoulder at Inuyasha. 

“What’d you do to her?” Inuyasha growled. He stood still, knowing very well what he’d do if he moved from his spot at his office door. If he hadn’t been so engrossed in his thoughts, he’d have caught this bastard at the door. The buttons and light chains on his leather jacket were rattling from how much he wanted to just show his brother a good ass whipping. 

Sesshomaru finally glanced at him over his shoulder. “I’ve touched no one,” he said. Inuyasha swore he heard Sesshomaru snort, but the sound was so low. “Any distress was done by herself.” 

Inuyasha growled again with the confirmation that Sesshomaru knew whom he was talking about. “I warned you about going near her again.”

“Yet I remain an agent under father’s every direction,” replied his brother with a bitter edge. His fangs glistened with his sneer. “You have no say in how father keeps track of you.”

“Keh!” scoffed Inuyasha. “Tell the old man that I don’t need him to look after me. I’m a grown fucking man!” 

Sesshomaru raised a brow in his direction. “So you’re prepared,” he inquired, “for everything?” A glint in his eye was all it took to put Inuyasha on guard. 

Inuyasha felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing, so he raised his arm and blocked a sudden rush of punches at his head. He tightened his exposed abs and took a blow to the gut, but it was a means to get a chance at gouging Sesshomaru’s eyes. His claws reached nothing, but he felt a kick at his jean-clad thigh. Not looking to go down, Inuyasha caught the next punch and pushed back against his brother. 

He meant to slam Sesshomaru into the wall, bills be damned, but the older demon switched their positions and slammed him into it. The wall cracked under the force and width of his back. Inuyasha didn’t even get a chance to throw a punch when Sesshomaru landed three heavy blows into his gut, getting him to spit up blood. The blood hit Sesshomaru in the face. For that, Inuyasha felt another cinder block punch go higher. The wind was knocked out of his lungs. 

“Bastard,” wheezed Inuyasha. Those punches weren’t just lovetaps; they were laced with something, an emotion from Sesshomaru’s narrowed eyes. There were tears at the corners of Inuyasha’s eyes, but he didn’t dare show pain as he pulled himself from the wall and stood up shakily in front of his brother, who was wiping the spat up blood from his face with a handkerchief. He pushed past the piercing pain in his chest and stood up straight, breathing through it all and facing his brother as if they were the same height. 

“Let that be your lesson… again,” sneered Sesshomaru with one last wipe at his face. He tossed the handkerchief at Inuyasha’s crop top, and it fell to the flooring at Inuyasha’s booted feet. “ _ This Sesshomaru _ is not some idle thug.  _ He _ is a being far out of your league,  _ child _ .” With that, he turned around and walked to the window, which he opened. “I’ll tell father you’re faring well.” 

A blinding light engulfed the room, getting Inuyasha to squint until the light was gone. Right on time, Sango walked in with Ayame and Koga. Sango was the first to run to him and threw his arm around her shoulders. Ayame got his other arm. He didn’t notice that he was weak in the legs until they moved him to a stool in the kitchen part of the studio. 

Koga went to the kitchen and walked over with a towel and a glass of water. The big guy handed him the water, but a fury overtook Inuyasha. He wanted to howl and find Sesshomaru. He wanted to finish a fight that he was adamant hadn’t ended. He took the water, but it crumpled in his hold. The water spilled all over his pants and onto the floor. 

“Inuyasha!” said Sango. She was touching his face and making him look at her. He could see his blood on her thumb and her sweater from his peripheral, and he could see Ayame taking a bag of ice from Koga before pressing it to his abdomen. “Inuyasha, what happened?”

“I can smell him,” said Ayame as they glanced in the direction of the window. They were shivering, even with their puffy jacket mostly zipped up. 

“Your brother?” pitched in Koga. He walked over with a broom and rag. “What the hell is he doing here? I thought he only checked on you guys like every year or so.” He wiped up the water and started sweeping carefully around everyone. 

“What business does that asshole have coming in here?” growled Sango. Her face softened as she looked back at Inuyasha. “And then doing this to you…”

Inuyasha backed off at that face. “I… I don’t know,” he said to everything. He really didn’t. He didn’t understand his old man, and he didn’t want to. When he made it big, he’d buy his mom another house in any state she wanted, and they’d live far away from wherever the hell his father stayed. He’d move the studio, and he’d bring his band with him, away from all the bullshit this city gave them since their days as babies.

Koga came back with cleaned hands. The water was gone, and there was no more glass. Ayame was still holding the ice pack, and Sango was embracing Inuyasha like his mother would when he was a child. They were all there, looking to him for direction, for answers. There was nothing he could offer, nothing he didn’t want them knowing. It was already too much for them to know he even had a brother, even his brother’s name. Their eyes were still on him and asking.

He was tired of looking this way, weak, especially after a visit like this. The last time Seshsomaru had beat him up had been when he’d just turned twenty-six, old enough to be offered a position as his father’s left hand in whatever business he did. His mother wouldn’t tell him, not everything anyway. He’d had an idea. The rejection came with a reminder of his father’s power through Sesshomaru’s fists. 

It’d been fine. He hadn’t liked his old man then, and he didn’t now. 

“Don’t look so depressed,” Inuyasha said with a bit of energy. He was still pissed, but he had more control than his damn brother did. He took the ice pack from Ayame and held it to himself. Sango didn’t move, so he put a hand on her arm, appreciating her care. “I… I don’t want to talk about Sesshomaru, you guys…” 

Koga nodded, and Ayame just pursed their lips. Sango squeezed him one last time before letting him go. That was definitely her own sign she’d leave it be. Sango knew just as much as Koga and Ayame did; Inuyasha had made it clear before that he wouldn’t say anything about his dad or anything his dad did, explaining he knew very little. 

Koga pulled some stools around for everyone and took a seat last when everyone was huddled. Inuyasha could see him looking at the wall and then back at his hands. Ayame had their arms folded as they waited for someone to speak. Sango was looking right at him and waiting.

“So auditions,” started Inuyasha. He cleared his throat. He’d wished he controlled his hand not to crush that water. “Let’s hold some in a week. We can post the position online or something.”

“I thought you wanted cafe girl to sing with us,” Sango said, very neutral sounding. She had her phone in her hand now. “She did fine during karaoke.”

Koga’s eyes flashed in her direction, surprised. 

Even Ayame was looking at her with a brow raised. They looked between her and Koga several times before catching Inuyasha’s gaze. Ayame shrugged. “I don’t care who sings lead with you,” they said. “Whether it turns out to be Kagome or some other sap.”

Their cousin immediately slapped their arm. There was a rumble in Koga’s chest that clearly told Ayame to back off, but Ayame bared their diamond drilled fangs at him. It’s not like Inuyasha and even Sango couldn’t know now: Koga and Ayame knew this Kagome.

“Is she your girlfriend or something?” asked Inuyasha outright. That question got Sango’s attention, but she decided to look at her phone instead with her lips tucked between her teeth.

“Pft!” scoffed Ayame. “He’s not ballsy enough to ask out someone like Kagome.” They were grinning. 

“Ayame!” growled Koga. His fangs were longer now. 

“What?” grouched Ayame. They bared their elongating fangs at him again. Their eyes were spearing Koga’s with absolute intensity. “They already know! It’s not like Kagome is a nobody anyway! People are searching for her online account and shit! She’s fucking famous.” They pulled out their phone and showed photos of Koga hanging out with Kagome at the northward park, overlooking the city at night. “People think you’re fucking her! Might as well give her the opportunity and complete the circle.”

The question of whether Koga had feelings for this Kagome or not rattled inside his head.

“Kagome doesn’t want anything to do with singing like that,” rebutted Koga. “We were lucky she sang at all!”

“Oh please!” continued Ayame. “She sang at fuckin’ Spiffy.”

“We’re not talking about Kagome anymore!” Koga declared with a snarl. That sound got Sango to jump and look at him. His claws were digging into his jeans. Whoever Kagome was to them; Koga clearly took her safety and anonymity very seriously. 

Inuyasha snorted with his own growl, getting everyone’s attention and reestablishing that he was leading this discussion. He was riddled with questions now. Who was Kagome? What kind of relationship did she have with Koga that involved being kissed so affectionately? Why would it be weird for someone like Kagome to sing at all? Her voice was breathtaking. “I’m not going to show preference,” he said. He didn’t want to say that really. Inuyasha figured it was the smart and maybe fair thing to say. It was Sango’s turn to look at him like he’d lost an ear. “We’ll hold a fair audition.”

“You’re sure about that?” asked Sango. She held up her phone and had a tweet ready to send. “I have the tweet ready, but that’s only if you’re sure you change your mind about the Spiffy chick.”

Inuyasha nodded. “I’m sure.” He watched Sango tap the send button with her thumb. His phone made a sound in the office, and there were more following. Already, their post was gaining traction. 

“Good luck to us,” said Sango. She sighed and put her phone in her pocket. “We’ll each have to watch the videos they submit and note people worth keeping.” She glanced at Koga before catching Inuyasha’s gaze. “If you change your mind about… Well, just let me know.”

Inuyasha licked his lips. The ice against his belly was beginning to burn, so he took it off, revealing the reddened skin and the bruising. It’d take a day to go away. Koga and Sango got up, avoiding each other but setting up their instruments. 

“Want something?” asked Ayame with their phone out. No doubt they were talking about food, but Inuyasha couldn’t stomach any right now. With a shake of his head, Inuyasha stood up on his own feet. 

“Actually,” said Inuyasha. He put a hand on Ayame’s shoulder. “Can we talk?”

Ayame looked taken aback by the request. They narrowed their eyes before quickly glancing in Koga’s and Sango’s direction. It was that look that gave Inuyasha even more reason to talk to his friend. They swallowed but replied, “Yeah.”

Inuyasha would figure out what the fuck was going on with his best friend, Koga, and this Kagome woman. He’d know once and for all. 

**llllllllll**

Kagome was on her lunch break when Bankotsu sat next to her in their break room. The break room was small, so there was only one table, a dented white fridge, and a microwave on a barely white countertop. The floor was carpeted, and the walls matched the dining area. 

Their breaks usually overlapped with fifteen minutes, so Kagome was expecting to see him. The shirt was sitting on her lap, and Bankotsu was slouching forward on the table. He was tired, and Kagome knew that Jakotsu had given him hell without her there to be witness to their clownery. 

Kagome felt her phone vibrating at a high speed in her pocket. She’d learned that barely having a Facebook was enough for people to request her as a friend and ask to follow her. Some were threat messages and others were congratulation messages. The number of notifications was monstrous, and she refused to look at them until they died down. 

“Your phone,” grumbled Bankotsu. His face was still buried in his arms. “It’s making too much noise.”

Kagome quickly silenced her phone. “You feeling okay?” asked Kagome. She placed a hand on the shirt. 

“I’m dead,” replied Bankotsu. “Jakotsu won’t shut up!” His bangs were more ruffled than usual. His black shirt was taut around his shoulders, and Kagome found herself staring again. 

Blinking away the attention from her coworker, Kagome shook her head and brought the shirt from her lap. “Maybe this will make you feel better,” she said. 

Bankotsu slowly sat up and looked at the shirt with a raised brow. “What’s this?” he asked. He opened up the shirt and saw Tessaiga on it. The shirt was big compared to Bankotsu, Kagome noticed. She never realized how huge Koga was compared to other guys. “W-Wait! Is that--Is that his signature? Koga’s signature?” He looked back and forth from Kagome to the shirt. Looking at him was like looking at a kid with a gift bigger than them. It made her grin.

“He said he didn’t have any more shirts on him that were official merch,” explained Kagome, trying to remember everything Koga had said last night. “He decided to give you his personal shirt with his signature since he heard you were a fan.”

Bankotsu’s jaw dropped. His sparkling eyes took in every detail of the shirt before focusing on the signature. He neatly folded the shirt and smoothed it out. “Kagome,” he said, “you’ve made me the happiest man in the world.” He got up and scooped Kagome into his arms. He was strong, very strong, and Kagome felt herself blushing. 

“It was no problem,” replied Kagome, muffled against his chest. 

Koga actually had surprised her with the shirt first, and he’d told her it’d been for her friend. They’d been on the northside and sitting on a blanket in the park. They watched the city skyline together and sat close to keep warm in the cool night. They’d talked about high school, and they’d talked about Miroku, who’d been babysitting and probably hogging Kagome’s bed with Shippo. She’d usually find them that way. 

Kagome had talked about bumping into Koga’s bandmate, and she’d learned that his name had been Inuyasha, Tessaiga’s lead singer, and that Inuyasha didn’t really share anything about his personal life. She’d learned about Sango, too, but not so much. Koga had looked a little reserved talking about her, so Kagome hadn’t pried. They’d been spooked to go home when Koga had heard a camera go off nearby, and he’d taken her home.

Bankotsu let Kagome go, and they both sat down again. “You know you’re famous now, right?” he asked Kagome.

Kagome sighed and replied, “I’m hoping it blows over. I’m not used to so much attention.” She rubbed her face. “I didn’t think karaoke would get so much attention.”

Bankotsu appeared floored again. “You sang karaoke with  _ Tessaiga _ ,” he said with his hands on the table. “Kagome, people think you’re dating their lead guitarist--wait, are you dating him?”

Kagome felt her face redden. 

“Someone sure is nosy,” came Kagura’s voice. She plopped down on Kagome’s other side. “My wife is dating me and only me.”

“Please,” said Bankotsu, his mood changing completely, “it’s not like you’re not pushing in on it. People have seen you banging Ayame up on the Northside. Twitter is on fire.”

Kagome blushed. She didn’t know about Ayame and Kagura beyond that karaoke night. They’d all continued drinking at her apartment, which Koga and Miroku had helped clean up afterward. She wasn’t lost on the tense animosity between Bankotsu and Kagura. When she’d asked them about it, neither person seemed too keen on actually giving a straight answer. 

Kagura didn’t flinch. “You know,” she said as she shifted in her seat to lean toward Bankotsu, “sometimes, there are good people and little bitches. The little bitches don’t know when to keep their noses out of something. Sound familiar?” She curled her lip in distaste as Bankotsu gripped the edge of the table tightly with both hands. 

“Watch your mouth, Kagura,” growled Bankotsu. “It just might get you in trouble one day.” He stood up and draped the shirt over one shoulder. “I’ll see you in the kitchen, Kagome.” He left the room, his braid the last thing to swish out of sight.

Not liking the energy, Kagome turned to Kagura and asked, “Are you okay?” 

Kagura leaned back in her chair and huffed. Her grimace melted into a pleasant smile. “Nothing I can’t handle,” she said. “Men can be such little nosey peasants. Bankotsu is a great reminder as to why I don’t do men.”

Kagome gave a weak smile. “He’s usually a good guy,” she said. “The man is only a danger if you’re deli meat or cheese.”

There was a dismissive glare in Kagura’s eye, but it was directed toward the open door. “Yes,” she said with a dip of her brow, “I’m sure you’re right.” Her gaze didn’t shift for a couple seconds. She turned to Kagome and smiled again. “So anyway, you sure you’re not dating that hot stuff Koga?”

“Kagura,” whined Kagome, noting the sudden change. “Not you, too.”

“I only met him that one time, Kagome,” said Kagura with a playful air about her. “If you’ve been bedding a hot piece like him and not telling me… Oh for shame.”

Kagome rolled her eyes and sank into her seat, her face reddening once again. “You know everything about me,” she said. “I wouldn’t leave out a new partner from you.” She couldn’t. If she hadn’t been home with Miroku supporting her after Kikyo, she’d been at work with Kagura holding her during her break. Kagura had joked that they’d get married instead and leave this world behind, and sometimes, Kagome would wonder what life would’ve been like if she’d been serious. 

“So tell,” said Kagura as she leaned her cheek against her open hand. Her eyes were inviting every detail.

Kagome smiled innocently and explained her friendship with Koga and how he happened to be part of Tessaiga. “He’s just not around too often because he’s in a popular band,” she said with a shrug. “That’s it. Everyone sees him as the hot guy guitarist, but I just see him as my childhood friend. We’ve been through a lot.”

“So why not date him?” asked Kagura. She looked genuinely puzzled. 

“We don’t see each other that way,” explained Kagome as if it were so simple. “Besides…” Her gaze dropped to the table. “After  _ her _ , I don’t want to be involved with anyone for some time. The next time I do get in a relationship, Kagura, I want it to be the kind that involves marriage.” She traced circles on her knee. “I want a partner for life. I want a house. I want more… kids. I-I just want a happily ever after, you know. As close as I can get.” Kagome could see it. She could see someone standing there and holding Shippo while helping her out of their family car due to a healthy pregnancy. She peered up at Kagura, who was just smiling at her. 

“I understand,” replied Kagura. “And you will have all those things!” 

“Will I?” asked Kagome. She wasn’t being sarcastic. A weight settled on her chest. “I’ve had too much bad luck to think of anything past that dream. It’s almost an illusion.”

Kagura’s smile softened. Her dimple on her left cheek was showing when she did this. Kagome saw longing and something else in her friend’s eyes. Did Kagura know her pain more than she knew? She sighed and sat up more before scooting closer to Kagome. “I know you will,” she said with a fierce voice that poured her words into the universe. “You’ll find someone who is worthy of you. It may take time, and that’s okay. Prince Charming, Lady Charming, or whoever isn’t going to march through this restaurant for you right away, but they’ll find you.” 

Kagome gave a half-smile. If anyone could speak with truth in every fiber of her word, then Kagura was that person. The woman was elegant in every way, and Kagome would believe her if she said something like the sky was actually red, not blue, clear, or whatever scientists said. 

Suddenly, Kagura’s eyes widened, and she looked to the door. She put an arm out in front of Kagome, who could hear heavy footsteps and Bankotsu’s voice yelling for someone to get out of the kitchen. Though, Bankotsu’s voice suddenly stopped. “What the--” Kagome started when Kagura got up and shoved the table over. This had Kagome’s heart picking up its pace, so she stood up, too. 

From the heavens know where, Inuyasha appeared right at the door. Kagome immediately felt herself stiffen. What was he doing here? What was he doing busting down the kitchen door and marching up to her and Kagura for? “I-Inuyasha?” she stuttered, unsure. 

“You’re Kagome, right?” Inuyasha asked. 

“Look, I know you’re that guy from the bar,” interrupted Kagura, “but you can’t come in here like that and just demand to talk to my best friend.”

Inuyasha ignored her and continued looking Kagome in the eyes. If she’d seen him like this and not at karaoke, Kagome knew she’d feel like screaming. His stare would’ve set her off. He was a lot broader shouldered than she remembered; maybe it was the jacket. His hair was damp, and so were his clothes. He’d brought the smell of rain into their cafe. His abdomen was bruised, but that didn’t seem like a huge problem.

“I’ve never met someone who infuriated me like you,” said Inuyasha. “Not in a woman.” He’d said it with conviction.

“Hey!” said Kagura, stepping in front of Kagome. “I don’t know you, so you should get out.”

“Kagura,” Kagome gently said. She put a hand on her arm. She peeked around her friend, staying behind her. “Just say what you have to and go. You’re making everyone upset.” It was baffling that he’d be here, again, at all. What could he possibly want with her? Was he still holding a grudge?

Inuyasha licked his lips and bluntly said, “Sing for Tessaiga.”

**llllllllll**

Sesshomaru had been on a job seven years ago when he had met  _ her _ . He’d indulged in her spirit, her life, her  _ flesh. _ His hands had taken and taken from her repeatedly. He’d swallowed every scream from her lips, and he’d devoted his attention to every curve and delicate pulse on her skin. Just a touch could get her heart racing and her breath trembling as a peaceful rain. 

Her taste had been sweeter than cherries, and her scent had been addicting, stronger than nicotine or THC. Her voice had lulled him from heights of emotions he’d shown no one else. She’d been heaven on this damned earth.

There’d been no other woman like her, and he’d have no other. He couldn’t. She was his, and she’d never find another man like him. Never. He always belonged to her. His heart remained in her hands, and she didn’t know it, not for a second. 

She could peel back her fingers to him, and he’d see his very soul in her palms. She wouldn’t cry out or cringe. She’d carry it like a lantern and use it to light the very dark of the city night. He, in turn, would hold her very life between his claws. She’d love that, being protected by the most dangerous weapons in all of the Inuyokai family and in all of the demon world. 

Sesshomaru remembered when she’d given him an umbrella. His teeth had been shown with growls leaking from the base of his chest. She’d looked past it all. She’d seen the dreadful wound of his body and heart, and she’d heal him as if it’d made the most sense in the entire world. 

Now, he looked out onto that alleyway where he’d seen those men of the past trying to grab her. She’d sensed them and had prepared to fight. He’d interfered. She’d been his weakness. Had she died that day, Sesshomaru would’ve followed her. No second thoughts, no doubts, no notes.

The weather was cool and unreliable for his job, but he was fine with that. The coming rain meant he could remember her. The damp could cling to him like she once did. He could see her perhaps. 

...No

If he did so, he wouldn’t let her go. Sesshomaru would take her and never let her look away again. She’d find shelter within him and only him, and she’d once again be the core of his destruction. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Thank you for the positive comments. I have a lot of fun reading your thoughts because I know people are catching onto stuff. I won't be giving away anything... yet. :)) Also thank you for the kudos! I appreciate the support!
> 
> -W


	5. All Things Ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is more sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there is a lot more sad. If it makes anyone feel better, I hurt my feelings first. 
> 
> Also! TW: depressive moods/depression and suicidal ideation--I've updated the tags on the story. If you're sensitive to these things, please take great care when reading or opt out as your health is most important.

Kikyo was preparing for her date night with Kagome. 2019 was settled in the bones of fall, and Halloween was close. The students were wonderful in her classes at the downtown university. Though, the most remarkable musician lived with herself and Kagome at their apartment. Shippo would always be her favorite student.

At thirty years old, Kikyo was doing well as a university instructor. The semester was in full swing, and she had a tight hold of the courses and articles she had drafted for submission into journals. Her office was neat, lined with books and posters of past concerts. Awards lined her walls, and her desk was a grand build of cherry red with silver legs. 

The cream curtains were shut as Kikyo switched shirts and threw her grey blazer back on. Kagome loved her in her work clothes and with her hair tied back. Her backpack sat on her desk wide open, showing the pack of makeup wipes, toothbrush, and hairbrush. She’d already brushed her teeth and hair, so all that was left was to wipe away the makeup around her neck and chest. 

Kikyo tossed those wipes once her tattoos were visible. Fine lines of dragons and flowers curled about her skin in elegant patches of color. Her earrings were studded but simple. Kikyo quickly kicked off her heels and slipped into some shorter black heels. 

Glancing at her phone’s dark screen, Kikyo deemed herself ready. She grinned and zipped up her bag. Tapping the inside pocket of her blazer, Kikyo smiled at the slight bulge of the ring box. The box was a dull purple, but it could never match up to the band inside. It wasn’t too fancy as per Kagome’s tastes; however, it would make her girlfriend more than happy. She’d planned for this day and the moment at the restaurant. She even planned for their bedding session at home since Shippo would be spending the night with his grandmother. 

As she slung her backpack over her shoulder, she wondered what Kagome was going to wear to their dinner. She hoped Kagome would finally wear that dress with the slit in it. The woman would be radiant, smile and all. Oh, how she loved when Kagome smiled. Kikyo grabbed her phone and flinched when a text from  _ Bad Idea _ came up. The caller ID had no picture, but Kikyo didn’t need the picture to feel the guilt at the pit of her stomach.

“Are you free tonight?” asked Bad Idea. 

Kikyo snorted and cleared the message from her notifications. She’d ignore it. If she’d learned anything, she’d been a fool to even look  _ his _ way when they’d bumped into each other at the bar right off Clark street. Since then, he’d text her every day, and Kikyo had responded several times earlier on out of curiosity. 

Curiosity killed the cat. That was the saying. The phrase was unfinished, and Kikyo intended to make her comeback without ever seeing Bad Idea again. Kagome was the woman of her dreams. She loved her. She loved Kagome’s personality and drive to be the best mom and best girlfriend. Kagome would never know about Bad Idea, and Bad Idea would have to forget Kikyo. 

Shit, Kikyo was more than aware of how lucky she was that Kagome didn’t do that unattractive phone checking charade. She’d had her fair share of girlfriends with trust issues, and seeing Kagome hold herself with an authority and forward intentions of not messing around, Kikyo was more than ecstatic for a normal relationship. 

The irony is not lost, thought Kikyo. Even Kagome deserves more than me...but...she doesn’t know that. 

A sour taste entered her mouth, so Kikyo swallowed and licked her lips to clear it all away. There was no time to think about the bad. She had to think about the future. She had to think about Kagome and Shippo--no, she thought of them as her fiance and her son already. They were her family. With this new resolve, Kikyo pocketed her phone and left her office. 

Locking up the heavy wooden door, Kikyo made a mental note to delete Bad Idea from her phone as soon as she got into the car. It would be stressful to do so with students and faculty passing close enough to look over her shoulder. Didn’t need people seeing that she called someone a bad idea at all. 

Turning around with the keys stuffed in her pocket, Kikyo gasped and jumped slightly at the sight of Professor Naraku. She set a hand on her door and took a deep breath. “I hate when you do that,” Kikyo complained. She stopped herself from saying more as the familiar shiver ran down her back whenever she talked to this guy. 

Naraku smiled softly and apologized. His dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and he wore a button-up shirt with black slacks and loafers. He always wore a colored eyeliner and a choker that was too thin for his thick neck. “I’m so glad I caught you,” he said with his soft tone. For a tall man with red eyes like lava, his demeanor didn’t match his looks at all, not for a demon. “I was just about to knock on your door.”

Kikyo straightened out her blazer and asked, “What for?” She tried her best to ask calmly. She didn’t want her weekend to start off sourer than it already did. 

“Well you know,” he explained with a bright smile, “the faculty is having a Halloween party in a couple of weeks. The theme is twin horrors!” He had his hands up dramatically wiping the air as if he were talking about Broadway. “I was thinking we could team up and wipe out the competition. I know you like winning as much as I do, and those Cheesecake Factory gift cards have our names on them!”

“Not if Thomas and I win!” called out Troy from the other end of the department hallway. He was grinning with a healthy competitive set of eyes. 

“We’ll see about that!” laughed Naraku. He put his hands on his hips and redirected his attention to Kikyo. “What do you say?”

Kikyo wished she’d slipped away during their little banter. “Sure,” she answered with a soft smile. “We can talk about costumes sometime this upcoming week.” She nodded and hoped to leave for Kagome. 

“You bet!” answered Naraku. 

Kikyo walked away with her frozen face and felt that chill leave at last. Naraku was a good professor according to students and anyone else who cared to listen to him talk, but he was just a bit off. The guy was neat and blared the classics since that was his specialty. His demon energy made each so much heavier in the office.

Once in her car, Kikyo opened up her contacts app and scrolled shortly to Bad Idea. A couple taps later and her finger remained just above the delete option. A notification came in.

“There’s a play at the theater in downtown,” texted Bad Idea. “I got a friend working there, and he gave me some tickets. I was wondering if you’d want to go.”

Kikyo shook her head. The guy was sweet and all sorts of perfect, but Kikyo didn’t love him. He wasn’t supposed to be attached to her; he wasn’t supposed to feel anything past that last day. She’d told him so. She’d told him that it hadn’t been anything, but he’d held her and had rooted himself as if she’d been the earth itself. 

She licked her lips and blocked the number. Then, she dialed Kagome and put the phone on speaker. Kikyo wanted to hear her girlfriend’s voice and eliminate the dull traces of conversation with Naraku and the clingy messages from Bad Idea. 

“Hey, Babe.”

Pleasant. Music.

**llllllllll**

His thoughts were full of her. Inuyasha didn’t get it. The ceiling of his bedroom provided no answers, and he wasn’t all sure what else to do. He was tucked in the wild toss of his pillows with his notebook and pen sitting at his crossed ankles. His sweatpants were bunched up around his calves, and the notebook’s spine scratched at his skin. 

Kagome was basically a stranger. When he’d intruded on her workday and asked for her to join Tessaiga, he hadn’t expected to be overwhelmed by the gloss of her eyes and the heat of her cheeks. Her scent had been warm and flurried through his nose. Notes of sweet rolls and other confections had mixed with the subtle rose lotion she wore. 

He began tapping his foot and getting lost in a soundless rhythm when all he could see now was the blooming night sky of her irises and long delicate lashes. His ears picked up the silent memory of her voice and flicked about as that voice grew and varied in pitch. His heart leaped in his chest, so Inuyasha immediately sat up and forbade himself from riding the familiar emotion. 

Dark hair and dark eyes were an echo, a ripple of his previous lesson. He’d been lost in it once. Hadn’t he learned a damn thing? He already knew what it was like to love a woman with stars in her eyes. He already knew the feeling of his heart being shredded like confetti. It hollowed him. The veil of pain was settling over his mind and skin. His hands shook.

Inuyasha growled. “Not again!” 

He ripped the notebook from the end of the bed and began scribbling. His teeth were tight behind his lips as he wrote and wrote. Soon, the words weren’t even legible. He was just writing in scratchy arches and loops that didn’t belong there. The paper was tearing and caving into the weight of his writing. The paper made a loud plop sound, so Inuyasha stopped. His eyes traced the pen, his arm, and landed on the wet spot that grew to two wet circles. 

Another circle bloomed right on the words. The ink fuzzed and spread out, those dark strands of marred penmanship reaching out to wrap around the other words. Inuyasha felt his lip quiver, so he threw the notebook over the banister of his room. The flat slap of the paper hitting the flooring somewhere was lost among the blaring heat that coursed through him. 

Inuyasha clawed the bedding and hiccuped as old emotions reached a level that made catharsis unavoidable. It was like being back at that hotel all over again during the competition. He had a half bottle of whiskey somewhere in the kitchen, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing really was. 

His heart just felt ripped out anew, and he wondered if it’d take half of his conscience missing to make it hurt less. Inuyasha reared back and roared out into the apartment. The deep of his voice bounced off the walls but shook the building. He only stopped when he heard the crack of the bedroom mirror. Inuyasha glanced over and saw his completely red eyes and facial markings.

He looked like his father. 

Inuyasha sniffled and shook his head. He couldn’t think about them both, his ex and his father. They were twisters, blundering about and taking out everything that didn’t lay flat at their feet. Another growl came from his chest, and Inuyasha jumped off his bed and walked over the shelf across the room. He tore a new notebook from it and swept the pen up from his bed. 

He opened up the notebook and began penning his words again. He wrote down random lyrics, odes to his heartbreak and resentment toward his old man. He starred them and continued writing more. 

_ The warmth is gone.  _

_ The heart doesn’t beat, _

_ For all eternity. _

_ Let the blood run.  _

_ My heart’s gone. _

_ It’s gone. _

_ The ribs are spikes,  _

_ Tallies of the only one. _

_ You. _

_ My lungs take it all. _

_ The only evidence of, _

_ Your existence.  _

_ Evidence, evidence of my fall.  _

*Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! “You”

_ I now pronounce you _

_ Man and wife. _

_ To lead a love, _

_ Full of strife. _

_ Deal the dice. _

_ What do you see? _

_ You see me. _

_ You see me! _

_ I am the devil’s son! _

_ Spawned, _

_ From the one, _

_ Who gambled.  _

_ You dealt the dice! _

_ You dealt me! _

_ You rolled snake eyes! _

*Fuck you, you son of a bitch. Call it “Devil’s Son”

Inuyasha stopped at the bottom of the page and saw Kagome’s face through the tears in his eyes. He turned the page and pressed hard, not even writing along the lines of the page. 

_ The wings on your back, _

_ They promise me. _

_ Something I cannot see.  _

_ Tell me.  _

_ The conditions of your, _

_ Eyes.  _

_ Your eyes, your eyes! _

_ They should be, _

_ My demise, but-- _

_ Why do I feel at ease? _

_ Like I’ll rise! _

_ From the dust of the past.  _

_ You emerged. _

_ A phoenix with, _

_ Wings of white. _

_ Rebirth! _

_ Can you see, _

_ Into my soul? _

_ Can’t you see, _

_ The dice have been rolled? _

_ I’m almost gone. _

_ Tell me your premonition. _

_ I’ll walk your path with eyes wide open. _

_ I’ll let you reach into my chest, _

_ And pull out the rest.  _

_ Tranquility! _

“Your Premonition”*

Inuyasha took in a deep breath and let the notebook drop to the floor. The pen went with it. 

Did I just write that? Inuyasha asked himself. 

“Did I…” he started. He stopped and dropped down on his ass. The floor was cold, seeping through his pants. Inuyasha swallowed. He remembered her voice when she’d said  _ yes _ . It’d been soft, softer than silk.  _ I...I can sing for you--I mean, Tessaiga…  _ Inuyasha pressed his face into his hands. Why did his emotions do this? Why couldn’t he just walk the earth emotionless?

His phone was in his pocket, and it vibrated. Inuyasha let his hands fall to his lap. The phone vibrated again. He sighed and fished the phone from his pocket. There were Twitter notifications of videos being sent in. Way too early for that as far as he knew. He shook his head. He didn’t even tell Sango that he’d gotten Kagome to agree to become part of the band. 

Inuyasha wondered if she’d be pissed. He’d accept it. There was something clearly going on with her and Koga. Whatever happened...he missed it. Clearly.

Ayame sure as hell wasn’t helpful.

He swiped up and deleted the notifications. Then, he went to his contacts list and scrolled down until he reached Kagome’s name. The need to talk to her and figure it all out settled at the front of his mind. Maybe if he talked to her, he could establish that they were coworkers, that they all followed strict rules to attend practice and record, that he wasn’t going to fall for another woman with eyes like hers. He clicked on her nametag and opted for a text message. He’d do it, then… 

What would he say? 

“You’ve been on my mind?” Inuyasha answered himself. “Your voice is amazing? I just met you but I’ve felt something ever since we sang together at that bar?”

A sigh escaped him. “Yeah, right,” he continued to himself. Inuyasha looked down and saw Siri’s screen up and silently telling him that his message was sent. Inuyasha blanched and cleared the screen to see the text. There it was, every word he just said. 

The read tag appeared below it. His heart jumped, and his eyes widened. “Fuck!” Inuyasha cursed. “Fuck! Fuck!” He tossed the phone on his bed and scrambled toward the wall. A thick swallow sounded out in the room, but he didn’t move. He could see his screen light up from his position.

Inuyasha got up but fell back down. Instead of getting back up, he crawled to his bed and propped himself up on his knees to look down at the dark screen of his phone. He reached to turn on the screen to see the message, but the phone beat him to it. The screen lit up, and he saw: “Sorry, prettyboy. Kagome’s occupied.”

There was a sigh, a mix of relief and irritation. How could he forget that holy asshole that had been there when he’d bumped into Kagome at Spiffy. He imagined that smug asshole texting him back on Kagome’s phone, and what was Kagome doing? Was she taking care of their son? Was she putting the boy to sleep? Was she riding this asshole’s dick? 

Inuyasha slammed his face into the bedding. “Shut up,” he told himself. “She’s probably sleeping.” He sat back and smoothed his hair back. His hand remained atop his head. “She’s got a boyfriend. You can think otherwise of her. She won’t mean anything to you.”

He said this over and over, but he didn’t believe a damn word. 

**llllllllll**

Ayame stared out at the city and exhaled the smoke from between their lips and out their nostrils. The demon weed was bitter in their lungs, but it freed them from the world around them. They could be flying for all they cared, but they wouldn’t be wondering about why Inuyasha tried to pry them apart yesterday, why Koga seemed so inclined to protect Kagome from everything, or why Koga and Sango thought they were fucking stupid. 

They wanted to laugh, so they did. They laughed on the studio rooftop since they didn’t want to go home. Home was where everything stopped and made them face themselves and ponder the loss. They lifted their chin and blew out another red cloud of smoke. The smoke played around in the air and floated across the street until it disappeared. 

Ayame reached out to it. They wanted to do that, disappear into the air and not feel a damn thing anymore. That was what the weed was for. Their thick flannel rustled as they brought their hand back and took another hit. The high was coming in and fluffing their mind. They thought about going inside and not feeling the cold wind against their neck and through their locks of hair. They thought about playing their guitar without anyone around to tell them what to do. They thought about playing it as if Kagura were there to hold them. 

They glanced at the roofing beneath their feet and let the red smoke trail from their mouth. The squares reminded them of their dad. The guy was still an architect and working on making a new building in downtown. Ayame only knew that because Twitter mentioned his name for the fifth hundredth time, advising them to follow him and his tweets. 

Ayame shoved their hands in their pockets and held their phone in their right hand. It felt so heavy now. They wanted to unblock him and see how he was doing, but it wouldn’t matter. There was no way to say  _ hey dad _ without being asked about their  _ sins _ or being compared to Koga, even though they were in the same band! Ayame licked their lips, recalling that Facebook post where their dad tagged them about Koga dating a nice girl named Kagome. 

They blocked him on Facebook, too, even though they hardly frequented that damn app. Even on a shitty website, Koga was the good boy. He was acting according to nature. He was showing how loyal he was to his mother, their aunt. He was acting like a  _ man _ as a  _ man _ should. 

It fucking sucked!

Ever since their mom had left them and their dad for Koga’s dad, their father had been a piece of shit. What a fucking world! Their mom and their uncle up and left. Ayame still remembered that day, and they’d seen Koga as their parents talked about it. Apparently, Koga’s parents had been having problems. They’d went outside to play, but Ayame had thrown their first punch. 

Koga hadn’t said a thing. They’d both fought in their overalls and torn shoes. They’d kept swinging and kicking until their parents had pulled them apart. From then on, Ayame threw a punch whenever they felt it. Now, Koga just accepted it, and they fought as if they’d been kids still. It was freeing, and Ayame knew that Koga blamed them as much as they did him. It was mutual destruction. 

Ayame growled deeply, hiding the sniffle that wanted to take its place. Their thoughts swirled in their mind now. Every turn led right back to the circle of bullshit that Ayame needed the weed for. 

They took another hit, inhaling the smoke until the joint was nothing but a stump not worth sucking down. They tossed the bud aside. Ayame walked to the edge of the building as they held the smoke in. Their eyes were on the sky. They already knew that it was seven stories down. The weed was lulling them now, and Ayame wanted nothing more than the guitar in their studio. A smile crossed their face as they climbed the high ledge and stepped off. 

Their body felt hollow as their high cradled their existence in the air. Halfway down, they wished they could stay right there, floating among the cold until they were less than mist. Ayame exhaled, and the red plume followed after them until they landed on the sidewalk. Their legs absorbed the shock well, but the sidewalk didn’t. The cement was cracked; they huffed lightly at the sight of it and kicked off the excess rock from their boots. Ayame walked back into the building, still exhaling the smoke as if they hadn’t just felt like dying. 

Ayame took the stairs until they were on the fifth floor again. They entered the studio, went into the recording room, and picked up their guitar as if they were going to record. They tuned it up and began playing. The chords were loud, and their fingers moved up the neck as they looked out into the rest of the room. As plain as it was, it was closer to home than any other place. 

They still remembered Inuyasha asking them what Koga and Sango were hiding, and Ayame smirked. They hadn’t told him shit--nothing that he had really wanted anyway, other than Kagome.

“We’re friends aren’t we?” Inuyasha had asked them.

“Yeah,” Ayame had replied. They’d figured he’d been asking about July, but if Koga hadn’t said anything, then they couldn’t tell that story. It hadn’t been theirs to tell. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing I can say.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Ayame.”

“What? I don’t go around telling them that I can smell your fucking depression, Inuyasha.” It’d been a low blow, but Ayame hadn’t been made to be nice. The only person they’d ever been nice to had been Kagome...until Kagura.

Inuyasha had pursed his lips. Then, he’d taken a step forward. “Does he love Sango?” he’d asked. “Or does he love Kagome? Is she dating Koga or that asshole she hangs out with? Why is she so special?” There’d been a weird look that’d appeared hidden behind his golden irises. They’d shown how deep Inuyasha had truly been. He’d looked this way with the chick before Kagome, and he’d fallen hard. Smelled like apples and sugar.

“She’s my friend, too,” Ayame had answered, skipping past everything else. “Known her since grade school.”

“So you knew about her?” he’d pressed. “Even since Spiffy.”

Ayame shrugged. They couldn’t say that they and Koga had known about Kagome working at Spiffy. They couldn’t say they could care less about Inuyasha’s fucking mission to know everything, especially when he’d made it a habit to hide everything personal from the band. Ayame hadn’t snitched then when they’d smelled the first dark of Inuyasha’s moods. They couldn’t say that their cousin fucked his best friend. They couldn’t say that they’d heard it from down the hall. They couldn’t very well say that had Inuyasha been sober he’d have heard Sango bellowing like she’d seen God himself. 

“Why are you being such a fucking asshole?” Inuyasha had growled.

“How do you deal with it?” Ayame had asked, way too calm. They’d been looking out at the sky now, ignoring Inuyasha’s clear tantrum. Inuyasha had paused, though. “How do you not feel like just stepping in front of a fucking bus? ...I know you feel like I do. Like shit.”

Inuyasha had huffed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ayame had flashed their eyes at Inuyasha. They could hear the fucking lie right under his breath. They could practically smell the emotional rot that came in like sewage. Then again, that had been Ayame’s curse, being able to read and know how everyone else had felt. Sure as hell had sucked even more as a kid in their father’s house. 

“From what I remember,” Ayame had said to save the Inuyasha the bitching fit he’d clearly wanted to do, “Kagome sang like an angel. She stopped for a while… She still sounds like she did back then, and she could’ve been big, bigger than us tenfold… If you want her to sing for us so bad, just ask her. Koga can’t stop you.”

That’d been a thrill to say. 

“Why does it matter what Koga says?”

Ayame had licked their lips. “He’s my senior,” they’d answered. In a family of wolf demons, the oldest of a generation had been boss, and there’d been no way around it. “I can’t go against him if he says I can’t do something… Just go, Yash Bash… I won’t tell Koga shit. You know I’m good for that.”

Inuyasha had frowned, but there hadn’t been any protest in his face. They’d always been like this, and everyone had known that. Ayame had been a coffin for secrets, and they’d known more than they’d like to on any account. All the goddamn time. 

Ayame had been the only one to call him Yash Bash on account the guy had fought with Koga once over a goddamn muffin. It had stuck for Ayame since it’d been the silliest thing they’d seen.

Their friend had nodded.

When Inuyasha had run past them, that stench had followed. Ayame had watched him jump right off the roof and land onto the one next door. They watched him heading right for Spiffy, and Ayame had huffed. 

Ayame smiled as they strummed the guitar with a wild flurry that they played up with their pedals. It filled the room and drowned out that simple high from inviting Inuyasha to invade Kagome’s life in spite of Koga’s words. They didn’t hate Kagome or anything; they cared about her a lot. Ayame wasn’t sure why they’d been so willing to give her up yesterday. It wasn’t pity. It was something, a feeling maybe. Ayame sighed. The woman definitely had a stench like Inuyasha’s and theirs. Even Koga was starting to smell like that. Sango smelled like that shit since high school. They shook their head. 

What kind of family were they?

Ayame put their guitar down and checked their phone. There was a text from Kagura. “Want to go out?” she’d asked. The message came in an hour ago.

“When and where,” Ayame replied. They hoped for a club or someplace where they could smoke more or drink the rest of the day away. There wasn’t any band practice today or any of those stupid ass meetings, so Ayame was down to drown. Drown in her. 

Kagura was a ray of light. She didn’t smell like sewage. Her scent was like spiced chocolate. She tasted even better, and Ayame didn’t mind if this text turned out to be a booty call. They could do with a quick fuck, and then Kagura would cuddle up next to them. They’d feel like her world, and they’d feel a twinge in their heart that they wanted to feel over and over again.

“Come down to the Golden Pig,” Kagura texted back. “Let’s be fancy for a bit.”

Ayame grinned. Anything for her. “Be right there.”

**llllllllll**

Kagome felt herself sinking deeper into the mess of her work at Spiffy. Everything was back to normal now. The Inuyasha ordeal wasn’t brought up, and Kagome was thankful for it. Bankotsu and Jakotsu were quiet for once, and they exchanged glances here and there. Kagura was on break and having lunch outside the restaurant. 

She looked up at the clock and pondered asking to leave early, but she needed the money. She wanted to add to the savings account for Shippo’s college since she hadn’t been able to do that: the bills were getting a little higher with the season getting colder. Living in the city could be a real bitch sometimes. 

The timer went off, so Kagome retrieved some pumpkin cookies from the oven. When they were cool enough, she’d pipe silly faces on them. As per the kitchen tradition, she set aside two for the kitchen staff. They didn’t care for the silly faces, so Kagome brought one over to Jakotsu, who thanked her with the sweetest smile, and gave one to Bankotsu, who stabbed his knife in a flank of freshly made lunch meat for the cookie. 

Bankotsu held the cookie, but he stopped himself from biting into it. Kagome watched him set it down and look at her right in her eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked. His tone was very different, new actually. Kagome couldn’t put her finger on it. It was so soft.

“I’m fine,” Kagome replied. She felt her cheeks redden when Bankotsu leaned in. 

“You were hounded by Inuyasha,” said Bankotsu. “Are you… sure you’re okay? He looked pretty worked up about finding you.” His eyes matched his voice. They were so warm.

“You’re being nosy with my wife!” butted in Jakotsu. He swooped in and threw an arm around Kagome’s shoulders. “Her work husband can check in on her.”

Bankotsu immediately glanced at Jakotsu and snarled, “Who’s being nosy?” 

“Oh!” Jakotsu continued in his playful voice. “Then why are you asking about Inuyasha? Jealous she might have a man?”

Kagome raised a brow. What the heck is he doing? Kagome thought to herself. 

“You’re being a real jackass, Jakotsu!” Bankotsu growled. “I’m asking my friend if she’s doing okay after yesterday.”

“Yeah,” said Jakotsu with an air of cool. “That guy practically ran you over to get to her.”

Bankotsu blushed a bright red.

“So spill, girl,” said Jakotsu as he turned around with Kagome following in his arm. “Are you doing okay?”

Kagome balled up her apron in her hands. Why did they have to bring it up? She wasn’t sure how she felt about it all. Well, Kagome hardly had a moment to actually figure that out; she was still stunned she’d been given the opportunity at all. Even more so stunned that he’d come to her at all considering they’d started on the wrong foot. Yet, she’d agreed as if it’d been so simple. Now, she had Inuyasha’s number in her phone, making three of four Tessaiga members in her contacts.

“I’m fine,” replied Kagome. “Really, I am.” She smiled softly. “He just asked me something, and that was it.”

“Did he ask you out on a date?” asked Jakotsu with a half-grin. “Asking for a friend.” He thumbed behind him.

“Hey!” yelped Bankotsu. “Don’t go putting ideas into people’s heads like that!”

“He’s shy,” whispered Jakotsu with a wink.

“I swear, Jakotsu!” Bankotsu boomed. “If you say another word—”

Jakotsu mimicked Bankotsu’s protests with a flapping hand. “Anyway,” he said, drawing the last half of the word out, “are you dating him? He’s cute. Does he have a friend?”

Before Kagome could even answer, she heard Bankotsu stomping over. She held back from laughing as Bankotsu pointed an accusatory finger at Jakotsu for spouting nonsense. Instead of goading Bankotsu to get mad about that, Jakotsu continued flustering the man. It was then that Kagome realized they were trying to make her feel better in their own way. However, it seemed that Bankotsu didn’t sign up for being teased like this. 

The rest of the shift was a usual showdown of wits and words between Jakotsu and Bankotsu, who remained red for the rest of their work shift. Kagome wondered how a guy like him could get embarrassed so easily. He seemed so hardcore all this time, but ever since their singing session, Kagome realized how much of a soft man Bankotsu really was. It was endearing. 

The shift was coming to an end, and they were cleaning up. Kagome was singing along to a Beyonce song and wiping down her counters with a rag. Jakotsu was wiping down the stove, while Bankotsu was aggressively scrubbing his station. 

Kagura walked into the kitchen, and immediately, Bankotsu froze. Kagome caught it from the corner of her eye. What made it even tenser was that Jakotsu was also eyeing Kagura like a tiger on the hunt. On the other hand, Kagura was all smiles and presenting Kagome with her treat. Thankful, Kagome took it and sipped deeply. The caramel coated her tongue, and she moaned with a deep gulp following. 

“That will always be the best thing at the end of a shift,” said Kagome.

“I thought I was always the best thing at the end of a shift,” joked Kagura. She grinned and crossed her arms. 

“You, too,” conceded Kagome lightly. Her smile matched Kagura’s. Taking a breath, Kagome smelt demon weed from Kagura’s shirt. Demon weed was strong stuff, and she only knew one person who smoked it like it was candy. Kagura wasn’t a smoker. “Saw someone on break, did you?” She raised her brows suggestively.

Kagura bit her bottom lip and looked up at the ceiling as if she’d wanted to be caught. It was cute: the way Kagura was so happy to have Ayame brought up. “Ayame had lunch with me,” she answered. “I’ll tell you all about it on our way home.” She looped her arm with Kagome’s and began walking out of the kitchen. “Come on, and let me tell you--”

“--Kagome!” cut in Jakotsu’s voice. 

Glancing back over her shoulder, Kagome figured Jakotsu wanted to say good-bye, but both he and Bankotsu were looking at her expectedly. “Could you help us with something?” Bankotsu tossed in. “We need your input on a lunchmeat idea this asshole is talking about.”

Kagome raised a brow. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” she asked. Honestly, she couldn’t even recall them talking about anything within the past five minutes. They bickered too much for stuff like that.

“No way,” said Jakotsu. He didn’t even look playful this time. It was odd; Jakotsu never took on a tone like Bankotsu. “Besides, it’ll only take a minute.”

Kagome was about to protest when Kagura let her go. “Kagura?”

“Go ahead and entertain them,” said Kagura. “I’ll wait for you.” She smiled and headed toward the lockers. The statement had Kagome reeling for a second. 

Entertain them? Kagome asked herself.

Blinking, Kagome turned to her kitchen friends and approached them. “What’s the idea?” she queried. She wanted to get this done and go. Kagura was waiting, and she wanted to hear if everything was going as fantastic as she figured for Kagura and Ayame. She seriously hoped so. Ayame wouldn’t confide in Kagome about much, and Kagome found it harder to support them when they told her nothing. She also respected Ayame too much to push them anywhere they didn’t want to go.

Bankotsu was the one to step up and put his hands on her shoulders. Kagome felt small again as his hands enveloped her this way, and he towered over her. “You should be careful when you go out,” he said. No lightness. No humor. It was as if he’d taken responsibility for her welfare.

Kagome tilted her head. He didn’t have to tell her to be careful when going out. She’d been doing that for a long time, especially in high school. “I live in this city,” she replied. “I know I have to be careful.”

“Things are getting strange, babe,” pitched in Jakotsu over Bankotsu’s shoulder. He rested his chin on the big guy’s shoulder, making Bankotsu grimace. “The weather isn’t right, and there’ve been some assaults lately on women around here. Hard to believe since we’re here of all places, but, honey, it’s a fucking jungle out there right now.”

Bankotsu let Kagome go and quickly slipped out his phone. “Give me your number,” he outright said. “I want you to text me when you get home.”

Kagome flinched at that. “W-What’s going on?” she asked. “I don’t--” 

“He’s not making a move,” Jakotsu quickly said. The fluff of his voice was back. “He’ll try that later.” He grinned mischievously with a wink.

“I’ll fucking punch you if you don’t get your goddamn face off me,” growled Bankotsu. He put his phone in Kagome’s hands and waited as she gave up and put her information in. He pocketed the phone and tried shoving Jakotsu off, but the other simply returned. 

“I appreciate the concern,” Kagome said, hoping to break away and go back to Kagura. 

“Be careful, babe,” said Jakotsu. He wrapped his arms around Bankotsu, whose eye twitched now. “We care a lot about you, and…” His voice lowered. “...don’t you ever let your guard down. Not around anyone.” His eyes went behind Kagome, so she turned and saw Kagura leaning against the frame. 

Kagura’s arms were crossed, and her eyes were narrowed. “Have something to say, boys?” she asked. 

“Don’t go there, Kagura,” warned Bankotsu. His fists tightened, and Kagome felt like she was standing in the middle of a street fight. Though, Miroku wasn’t around this time. 

Kagura snorted. “So scary,” she mocked. Something else seemed to be on her lips, but she kept silent.

Kagome broke out of her trance and walked over to Kagura. She threw a smile at Jakotsu and Bankotsu. “Thank you for including me,” she said, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” With that, she touched at Kagura’s shoulder, coaxing her to follow back toward the lockers then out onto the main street. 

As they waited at the bus stop, Kagome stuffed one hand in her pocket and continued drinking her treat with the other. Her phone sounded off, so she quickly looked at it and saw Bankotsu’s text: “It’s Bankotsu. Text me when you get home.” Kagome shook her head. She had Kagura right there. No one would attack with a demoness like her around. No man, human or demon, would have the gall to try. Moreover, she was a woman with priestess powers. Kagome had honed those skills a long time ago, and she had enough power to purify a city of demons. 

Kagome put her phone back.

“What’d they say?” asked Kagura. She’d been quiet. All that happiness about Ayame gone. 

“They said that there were women being attacked over here,” answered Kagome honestly. “Something about not letting my guard down… It’s silly. I’ve learned too many times to ignore people around me.”

“It’s not silly,” Kagura disagreed. “They’re right.” Her tone was heavy, and it weighed on Kagome’s mind.

Kagome blinked at her friend. “Why don’t you guys like each other?” she tried. The drink was forgotten in her hand.

“It’s not something worth talking about,” answered Kagura. She gave a weak smile and wrapped her arm around Kagome’s again. “Besides, it’s just work gossip. You don’t need to get involved in it.”

Kagome couldn’t tell if Kagura was brushing it off with an air of truth. An instance of nothing wouldn’t turn the kitchen into a warzone like that. A part of her wanted to dig in again, but Kagura was like a safe with an open face that betrayed nothing. She knew not to push people, so she settled for asking, “What’d you and Ayame do for lunch?”

The energy returned to Kagura, who blushed as she looked up at the wide-open sky of the city. “We ate at the Golden Pig,” she explained. “They were amazing. They talked about just practicing their guitar, but I could smell the weed on them. Ayame was honest. They told me they did smoke before, but it didn’t bother me. I told them about us working together like fiends at Spiffy.” She squeezed Kagome’s arm. “I… I really like them.”

Kagome smiled at her friend. “That’s wonderful,” she said. She meant it. The budding of a relationship could lead to love, and love was a gift born from within.

“I want to get to know them more,” continued Kagura when her sharp ear twitched. She glanced somewhere, her eyes sharp. A pause hung there, and Kagome wanted to ask more. Kagura turned back with a smile. “We’re going on a date this Friday. They want to take me to a pretty restaurant up on a rooftop somewhere. You’ll have to help me get ready.” 

Excitement spiked in Kagome’s chest. “If you’re cool with coming to my place,” said Kagome, “I’ll help with your makeup and outfit.” 

Suddenly, Kagura wrapped her up in a hug and said, “You’re the best!” The drink was dropped, but that wasn’t what really bothered Kagome. It was the fierce strength that her friend used to keep her still. A strong wind blew through, rustling Kagome’s and Kagura’s hair. There were some slams from nearby bins and glass cracking elsewhere. Kagome wanted to look, but Kagura kept her still. 

“Kagura?”

“Bus!” Kagura said. Their bus pull over and opened the doors with a hush. She all but shoved Kagome inside and followed her in. 

“Is something wrong?” asked Kagome. She wasn’t a fool, and all this skipping about on the part of her friends was making her want to stomp her feet and demand answers. 

Kagura shook her head. “Nothing.” 

As much as she wanted to just ask  _ what the fuck _ , Kagome backed down. Kagura was her friend. The woman wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. She gave a visible sigh. They walked to the back of the bus and got a section to themselves. Kagome glanced out the window, but the only things she saw were a large industrial bin caved in and several windows shattered. She glanced back at Kagura, who was texting as if nothing happened at all. 

Did Kagura have something to do with those things? Those were fine earlier, and Kagome wasn’t a fan of coincidences unless they were in her novel.

“Ayame asked me what I was doing,” said Kagura, who didn’t look up at all from the screen. She kept her phone out.

Kagome nodded but didn’t ask anyway. It was another avoided topic now. She took out her phone, saved Bankotsu’s number, and opened up her word document. Her character was torn between her ex and her new love interest. The ex was someone who left and took all of the protagonist’s ability to trust her partners, but they returned with a promise to be better. The new love interest, a demon and knight defying time, wasn’t returning her love yet, but even he was interested in the protagonist. 

Warmth enveloped her as Kagura rested her head on Kagome’s shoulder, and Kagome just wrote. Her thumbs tapped away, telling the protagonist’s story. Her name was Pearl, and Pearl was dancing the decision away in a club. This continued on until Pearl had to stop and face the truth of moving on from her past, but did she want to? 

As she wrote, Kagome listened to Kagura talk about Ayame. From time to time, Kagome glanced at Kagura and noted the far-away look in her eyes. Her lips never strayed from the smile they gave, and her cheeks were pink. Ayame was thrilling, amazing, fun, creative, driven, smart, and more. They were gorgeous, and their hair was like warm caramel. Kagura left no detail unturned. 

They stayed this way until Kagura got off and eventually Kagome. Kagome spotted Miroku’s car and smiled. She went upstairs and unlocked her door to the sight of Miroku and Shippo sitting on the floor and against the wall, just inside the hallway. 

Miroku had a bruise on his face, but he looked mostly unharmed. Shippo, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He had a splint on his tail, and there was a mocking happy face sticker right on it. Kagome dropped her bag and fell to her knees right beside them. She took Shippo’s face in her hands and looked him over. He was mostly fine, but the look in his eyes was so dull that Kagome wondered what he’d seen. 

She glanced back at Shippo’s tail and just about fumed. “I don’t have any missed calls from the nurse,” she complained as she grimaced at the sticker. “Why wasn’t I called about his injury? I could’ve left early and took him to the doctor.”

“Nurse was pretty beat up when I got there,” said Miroku. He sounded tired.

Kagome gaped at him. “What?”

“The school is saying that the nurse and the janitor got into a fight,” explained Miroku with a roll of his eyes. “That’s what other parents were saying anyway. Those guys did each other in pretty good if they were sent to the hospital on stretchers… from completely different parts of the school.”

Kagome licked her lips. “So the nurse couldn’t call because he was too busy fighting the janitor?” she asked. “In front of Shippo?” She blinked and waved her hands in the air as if her actions could conjure an answer. 

“It sounded ridiculous to me, too,” said Miroku. He shook his head and glanced over at Shippo. “Shippo said he saw the whole thing.”

Checking her son, Kagome saw Shippo fidgeting with his hands. No response, so she looked back at Miroku, who was smiling away. The puff of the bruise was offsetting his jaw, but his smile was more adorable this way. Nothing was making sense, so there wasn’t much more in continuing to be pissed right now. Kagome sighed heavily and asked, “What happened to you?” She touched Miroku’s bruise, and her friend leaned into her palm. 

At this moment, Shippo did look up but at Miroku. Kagome watched his eyes water before he began silently crying. She took her hand back and was about to reach for him; however, Miroku cooed that he didn’t do anything wrong. Shippo quieted, but there was misery stuck on his face. 

“Some kid picked on my boy here,” answered Miroku. He dropped his arm when the tattoos there glowed a bit. “Asked the kid to apologize, but his dad got mighty offended that I’d assumed his son did such a thing. Big ass moose demon thought I’d be scared of him, so when the fucker got in my face, I showed him not to fuck with me or with Shippo.”

“What?” said Kagome. She gaped at her son and picked him up from Miroku’s arms. She cradled him carefully and positioned him to rest against her chest. “Shippo,” she whispered, “what happened at school?” As she searched Shippo for an answer, she watched him look down, and it was then that she noticed the stretch and scratches of his uniform. “Were you in a fight at school?”

Shippo shook his head. He couldn’t even look up, much less utter a word. His little ears were drooping. Kagome would have read that as sadness or even fear, but neither fit. She could see it in his quivering lip, still tearing eyes, and scrunched hands. 

“It’d okay,” said Miroku, “tell her what those kids did to you.” He rubbed his knuckles, where his skin was singed. He probably purified the moose demon a little. 

Shippo explained briefly what happened, and Kagome was horrified. How could kids just do that? Picking on a kid that barely reached everyone’s knees? How could the school let it happen? Shippo hiccuped, and Kagome felt horrible for asking him to explain. She held him tighter and promised that everything would be okay. 

Kagome rose to her feet and walked to the living room, where they all stayed together. Miroku was the only one to get up to get some ice, and he sat back down with them. They remained in the quiet of the room, allowing the light of day to fade away. When the light stopped dancing on the walls, Miroku got up again and turned on the light. Thankfully, the lightbulb wasn’t that strong. 

“You hungry?” asked Kagome to Shippo. When he shook his head, she pursed her lips and pressed her cheek to his forehead. “You sure, my love?” When he nodded, Kagome wanted to cry, too. Her son was most likely traumatized or depressed after today. She wondered if she could keep him tomorrow; she’d be more than ready to call off work to just spend the day with him.

Miroku plopped down on the couch again. “What if we spend the whole day together?” he asked Shippo, who glanced up at his uncle. “Tomorrow. You and me. We’ll try ice cream in every creamery from here to your mom’s work.”

“That sounds like fun,” chipped in Kagome. “Can I join you guys?” She put on a big smile, hoping Shippo would bite. “Maybe I’ll get Uncle Koga to hang out with us, too.”

“All of us?” asked Shippo in a hoarse voice. He glanced back and forth between Kagome and Miroku. In the light, his tear-stained cheeks were noticeably dried over. 

“Yeah,” answered Miroku. Kagome glanced at him. As much as Shippo called him an uncle, the man sometimes was more like a father. That was fine. Miroku would be the closest to an actual father Shippo would have, and Kagome couldn’t complain one bit. 

Shippo yawned as he agreed. Kagome smiled at that. She made a mental note to call the doctor as soon as possible. Her son had a splint on his tail, and she wanted to make sure that he got the best care possible. 

“Come on,” said Miroku. He helped Kagome get up and led her to the bedroom, where they sat at the head of her bed together. His jeans were dingy like his shirt; he must’ve gotten off work before getting into that fight. Kagome was reminded that she still wore her work uniform, as well. 

Kagome’s phone rang in her pocket, but she didn’t want to move. “Could you get that for me?” she asked softly. Shippo blinked against her chest; his lashes were grouped in drying spikes while his eyes were red. Miroku fished her phone out of her pocket as Kagome looked again at Shippo’s tail. She’d have a word with the principal and the nurse when he got out of the hospital. She’d make them understand that her son was smaller than everyone else and needed to be watched out for. She’d be  _ that _ angry mom.

“Who’s Inuyasha?” asked Miroku. Confusion settled on his brow.

“That guy from karaoke,” answered Kagome. She pressed her head to his chest. “He asked me to sing for Tessaiga yesterday...and I agreed.”

Miroku unlocked the phone and began typing. “Why?” There was no harshness or interrogative malice in his voice. His tone implied the obvious to her: he didn’t like it.

“I thought if I did good,” explained Kagome honestly, “I’d make more money and save up for Shippo’s college tuition.” Her son looked up at her and touched her face with his small hand. His palm was warm. He barely had any claws, so the tips hovered above the soft fuzz of her skin. “I would do anything for him.” She gave a weak smile that Shippo returned.

The sent sound of the messaging app went off, and Miroku put the phone back in Kagome’s pocket. “I don’t like him,” said Miroku. “Will Koga be there when you sing?”

Kagome nodded, well aware that Miroku’s reaction was just about what she’d expect. 

“Good,” said Miroku. “I don’t trust that Inuyasha guy. I don’t like his eyes, I don’t like his fucking hair, and I sure as hell don’t like his face… His face is bad news.”

Kagome nodded again as if it were a simple agreement. She still didn’t know what to make of Inuyasha and their new deal. She hadn’t signed any papers yet, so she wasn’t sure what anything would look like? 

I don’t know anything, do I? Kagome asked herself. She wanted to laugh at herself. Who didn’t know about their own work?

“What did he say?” Kagome asked. Shippo buried his face in her chest and sighed. It reminded her of his days as an infant. He loved sleeping like this, and when he’d done it as a baby, Kagome had pulled herself away almost every two minutes to make sure he’d been breathing. 

“Some nonsense,” answered Miroku. “I told him to wait.” He took in a deep breath. He was stiff a little, so she knew he wasn’t exactly content with the circumstances. Kagome could hear his heart beating evenly despite his disdain for her co-singer. 

She closed her eyes to the rhythm of his heart and slept. 

The night carried her dreams. It wasn’t smooth. It was grainy, like gravel on a hot day. Each bump was a simple reminder that she was far from done fighting for peace. Life was like that. It was a fight.

**llllllllll**

Sesshomaru stood at the corner of Michigan and Chicago. The benefit and con of this city lie in its winds. He could smell everything, and he could catch whiffs of those who were supposed to be there and of those who weren’t. As far as he could tell, the winds were off. His underlings in the city were reporting attacks on women in all parts of the city. The article links and pictures had been sent to his phone, and Sesshomaru couldn’t help but notice how much these women looked alike. 

The question was: who was the message for? 

He’d made sure to text his expensive but reliable henchmen. They had to take care to check in on his brother, Izayoi, and  _ her _ . If they couldn’t do that, then they were useless. 

I will not tolerate—Sesshomaru stopped mid-thought. He glanced over toward the Water Tower, the huge mall. Something wasn’t right. It smelled like decay. 

However, the scent was getting stronger. His ears picked up the light patter of feet among the casual walk of human pedestrians and demons alike. The decay and feet were beating in sync, and it was coming for him. Deciding to play with his forming theory, Sesshomaru raised his chin and walked southbound. The soft feet were consistent as he walked through groups and headed straight for the riverwalk. 

As he descended the bleached stairs onto the riverwalk, Sesshomaru noticed the tendrils of hair creeping alongside him. He sneered. There was only one lackey he remembered that did that, a former underling of his own father. The shops were closed, so they had the whole space to themselves. 

He’d show no mercy.

Sesshomaru turned and saw her, Yura, a demoness with a weird fetish for hair. She was dressed as if it were warm out: a skin-tight dress that barely covered half of her thighs, heels, and a sun hat to keep the little sun there was from touching her. “Long time, no see, Sesshomaru,” she said. “What brings you back to the Windy City?”

Snorting, Sesshomaru put his hands in his pockets. “What do you want?” he outright asked. He didn’t have time for banter, and he had even less time for games. From her stench, he could smell the Arachnid Family as clear as day. Surely, Yura would enlighten him as to why they were crawling into Inuyokai territory. Was Winsconsin not doing it for them?

“Usually a man indulges a woman in foreplay before sticking his dick into her,” answered Yura bluntly. She had her hands on her hips now, and one hand had a comb with those demon hairs tied on its teeth. Her bottom lip was pressed down by her top teeth, a suggestive distraction that didn’t keep Sesshomaru from noticing the hair surrounding him. 

He cringed as she began twirling her short bob with her finger. “Answer my question,” Sesshomaru commanded. “Or simply die.” He brought his hands out and cracked his knuckles. He pulsed his aura, pushing the hair away and allowing the poisonous venom of his person to flow through to his hands. His fingertips burned pleasantly. He’d have this woman in pieces. 

Yura hummed. “Don’t worry,” she said. “What I want isn’t important.” The air about her was nonchalant as she opened up her stance. She whipped the hair to surround them both in a dome. “I’m only here to play with you...and if you don’t play fair, I’ll be taking that pretty hair of yours.”

Sesshomaru scoffed and whipped his arm out. He might get some hairs on his suit, but he was fine with that. It’d burn off anyway. From his fingertips sprouted a glimmering strand of his fury. Golden and unforgiving, this poison was thrown about, surrounding Sesshomaru until he pulled and completely destroyed the dome around him. 

Deciding not to continue playing into this woman’s hands, Sesshomaru brought his arm down and severed the demon hair right at the tip of the comb’s teeth. Satisfied, Sesshomaru moved in and lashed out with his claws. 

Yura, stunned, didn’t get a chance to move when one hand was severed from her body. She yelped and jumped back until her back hit the walling next to a souvenir shop.

Sesshomaru huffed. Yura was no match for him, but he already knew that. What was the Arachnid Family thinking? Sending a low-level demon to wipe him out? He took a step that brought him right in Yura’s face. The hair was still growing, it wasn’t enough to keep him from holding her up by her neck. Her skin was rough under his fingertips, so unlike a usual woman. 

“Last chance,” said Sesshomaru. He kept his brow from furrowing, and he stopped his lips from pursing. He remained impartial to the snarl he wanted to unleash on her for wasting his time. “Tell me why you’re distracting me when there is nothing of mine you could possibly take?” After all, Towa and Setsuna were back home and in the care of a powerful priestess, and  _ she _ was given bodyguards to survey her surroundings. 

Yura smirked. She didn’t seem all that affected by the tight grip around her neck or the malice in Sesshomaru’s words. “Sometimes…” she choked out, “the Master is courteous and doesn’t touch your woman… He doesn’t need to in order to send the message. Tell Toga: his time is limited.”

Suddenly, Yura became nothing but slithering hair, and she seeped from between Sesshomaru’s fingers. The mighty dog demon allowed the poison to drip onto the remaining hair. He watched as it burned the tendril with a bubbling hiss and continued to do so as the hair moved. Sesshomaru huffed. She’d be dead soon. If not, then maimed horribly. Not even water could wash away his poison.

His phone sounded out for his messaging app, so he took his phone out and saw an alert. “The kid. They’re at the school.” Sesshomaru’s heart jumped. His body immediately heated up, and his aura began to lash out. The river quivered under the waves of his power, and the rock beneath his feet shook. 

With a snarl, Sesshomaru summoned his power and took flight in the sky. He’d make them pay. They’d all pay!

**llllllllll**

Shippo attended Demon College Prep High School. The blue and white uniforms were high quality, so the collar didn’t itch. The pants were flattering and more comfortable than the average pair of khakis. The shoes were glossy, and the buckles were an indication of the student’s year just like the neckties and jackets of the senior class. Shippo admired those jackets, and he looked forward to having his own fitted to him. 

He could see himself walking these tall school halls in that neat blue jacket. The tie would be white and a neat contrast to the button-up shirt. His shoe buckles would be made to look like the school mascot. Shippo would be so crisp and mature looking, and he’d have applications pending to Ivy League schools and Big Ten schools.

Currently, Shippo was staying atop his locker to avoid the hands of some of his classmates, who liked to pull his tail and shove him in his locker. He needed to get his books, but everyone below wasn’t budging. He cringed at the idea of being late for his English class again, but it looked like it would be that way. 

“Come on, Shippo!” said a girl from his calculus class. 

“Come down!” added another.

“Don’t be such a wuss!” taunted a coyote demon with a grin. He was a junior. 

Shippo’s lip quivered. It was times like these that made him wish he’d been born normal or a half-demon, then maybe he’d be in public school with kids his own age. He hated being so small compared to his peers, and he hated that both demons and humans alike were like this toward him. He felt his tail get grabbed, and Shippo yelped. 

“No!” protested Shippo as a moose demon plucked him from the lockers with ease. His books and notes fell from his arms. When did that guy get there? He felt the painful pressure of his body weighing down and away from the connection of his tail to his body. He could practically feel his bones sending waves of prickling pain up his spine. The tears were coming when he was dangled over the others and laughed at. 

“That’s enough!” came a familiar voice. Everyone turned to see the school nurse, Suikotsu. He was a very tall man, almost as tall as the moose demon kid, and held many medical degrees that put him above the likes of working with snotty kids in a school. Above all, he was the kindest man in the whole place. He had short dark hair, green eyes, and a pretty face, all wrapped up in a fancy vest and slacks. “You set him down and go straight to class. You all will be attending detention this Thursday! Expect to lose your Friday privileges as well.”

Shippo squirmed as he was set down harshly and shoved aside while his classmates walked away with mutterings and promises to skip detention. His tail got stepped on, and Shippo finally shed tears at the sheer pinch of his nerves and bone. His books were stepped on, and his notes were scattered. He sniffled before getting his stuff together. From the corner of his blurry eyes, Shippo saw Suikotsu helping him gather his things. 

The bell rang. 

Before Shippo could even sigh, he heard Suikotsu speak: “You should come to my office, Shippo. I’ll have a look at your tail.”

“I’m late f-for English,” whimpered Shippo. “Professor Manten s-said I would get a serious m-mark on my record if I were late again.” He shuffled over to his locker and winced at the feel of his tail even touching the floor. Suikotsu gave him his notes, and Shippo quickly swapped his books and notebooks for English. 

“I’ll walk you to class,” said Suikotsu, “right after I have a look at your tail.” He smiled reassuringly.

Shippo wanted to argue that he’d be fine, but his tail sent a jolt of pain up his back when it brushed the lockers. He cried instead. He’d never gotten hurt this bad; he never thought it was possible. Shippo followed along with the nurse and hiccuped at the shiny polished wood flooring. 

When they got to the office, Shippo knew where to go. He hopped up on the nurse’s stool and jumped onto the desk, trying to be careful to avoid bumping into any books and pens. The office was fairly large. The desk was a smooth white top with drawers deep enough to fit Shippo entirely. The walls were lined with medical books on shelves, Suikotsu’s many degrees and certificates, and medals for helping children around the world. Even his name plaque was golden, not silver like the principal’s. 

Suikotsu took a seat at the stool. His hands were gloved, and he smelled like oak up close. “I’m going to try to locate where exactly you’re hurt, okay?” he said gently. 

Shippo nodded and took a seat on a small wooden box by the name plaque. He was small enough for it, and Suikotsu said it’d be more comfortable considering his small size. He felt the nurse gently putting pressure along his tail, and the pain was immediate when he touched the far half. 

The first thought should’ve been about sitting down or expressing himself comfortably, but all he thought about was his mommy. She’d be upset. He’d worked so hard all this time to show her he was happy, happier than any child in here. He’d brought home A’s and praises from his teachers, but come on. It took a probably broken tail to bring it all down. 

“Looks like a sprain,” said the nurse. His voice was soft, much softer than he appeared. “I thought it’d be broken from the weight of that kid who stepped on you, but nothing is detached.” He pulled out a first aid kit and set to putting on a splint. A sticker with a smiling face finished the job. When it was done, the nurse tossed his gloves and washed his hands before returning to his desk. Suikotsu pulled out a slip of paper and filled it in. 

A report.

“You’ll have to take this one home,” advised Suikotsu. “I’m recommending you see a doctor. All I can do is put your tail in a splint and advise you to keep from putting any pressure on it. If the pain worsens, you’re free to come back.” 

Shippo planned to hide the paper, just like he did many times before. He’d take the splint off at home, and he’d pretend that it didn’t hurt at all. He immediately slipped the report into his notebook when it was handed over. “Thank you,” he said. The tears were completely gone at this point, and the clock was showing he was missing the first portion of lecture. Professor Manten was going to have a field day with his tardiness. 

“Don’t go yet,” said the nurse. He picked up his desk phone. “I’ll have to call you mother for this.”

Shippo blanched and cried, “Don’t! Please!” He tried to get up but the splint weighed his tail down and hurt to move. Suikotsu paused. “Please, she… my mom is working so much. She doesn’t need to know. It’d make her feel more stressed out. I-I don’t want to be a burden.”

Suikotsu frowned. “Has your mother said you were a burden?”

Shippo’s eyes widened. “No!” he replied with his little hands outstretched. “My mother never complains. B-But I see it. She’s so tired and she makes time for me. I don’t want her to be more tired because of me. Too many people have disappointed her. I don’t want to be one of them.”

Suikotsu frowned before setting the phone down. He leaned forward. “I’ll be calling your mother,” he said gently, “but I want you to know that your mom is probably working really hard for you because she loves you. I don’t think anyone would jump through loops simply to complain.”

Sighing, Shippo replied, “W-We probably won’t be able to afford the bills.” His hands fell to his lap. A lot of the money his mother made went to bills and his school tuition. If he had his way, he’d transfer out to a public high school, graduate early, and attend college next year. He’d graduate with his bachelor’s in musical composition, and he’d make his masterpiece for his mom. He’d be able to get a master’s in teaching, then he’d be teaching other high schoolers as a teenager. He’d be done with school, and he’d bring in extra income. His mother wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again, and she’d never feel as sad as she does, no matter how much she’d try to hide it. 

The door to the office was wrenched open, and the janitor Ginkotsu walked in. Shippo started at the man’s intrusion, but he calmed down. Although he wasn’t as sweet as Suikotsu, Ginkotsu was nice and would offer Shippo rides to class on his cart when the other students were looking for him. Plus, he had a square jaw and scared the crap out of all the kids, all except Shippo. “We have a problem,” he said in his too deep voice. He wore the usual janitor jumpsuit, and his super red hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. 

“Mr. Ginkotsu?” said Shippo. He flinched when the janitor looked at him sharply and back over his shoulder. 

“Right now?” asked Suikotsu. He stood up and approached the janitor. “How’d this happen? No one should’ve been able to enter the school.”

“It’s a demon this time,” said Ginkotsu with haste. He opened up his jumpsuit and tied it around his waist. The guy was jacked, and he pulled out some brass knuckles from his pockets. Looking closely, Shippo saw the blessing on the knuckles. “We have to go. Now!”

Suikotsu growled, but he went back to the desk and pulled out some heavy looking gloves. He put the gloves on and secured the straps around his wrists. “Shippo, we have to go,” he said. 

Shippo jumped at his name being called. What was going on? He didn’t get a chance to ask when he was scooped up in Suikotsu’s arms and carried out of the office in a full sprint. “Mr. Suikotsu?” he finally got out as they ran toward the senior wing of the school. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry about it right now,” said Suikotsu; his voice was deeper now. Shippo noticed the green veins pulsing in the nurse’s face. Humans didn’t do that. Suikotsu burst through the side doors of the school and made a run around the corner of the campus. 

Shippo’s heart pounded as he was carried farther and farther from the office. He clung to the nurse and yelped when Suikotsu jostled his tail splint. “Where are we going?” He yelped again at another jostle.

“Sorry about that!” apologized Suikotsu. When they entered the gymnasium, Shippo realized that there was no one in here. Where were the students? What about the gym teacher? Suikotsu’s shoes squeaked against the flooring of the basketball court. The wood shined brightly among the equally shiny bleachers, but that was it. It was a dead end. Shippo wasn’t given much of an explanation before Suikotsu scooted him under the bleachers. “You stay here!”

“Mr. Suikotsu!” Shippo exclaimed when the nurse left. He stood up and trembled as he peeked from under the bleachers and saw the nurse clench his fists. Blades slipped from his gloves, and Shippo wondered what kind of person the nurse really was. 

The energy in the gym dropped, and Shippo felt himself shivering. A different smell entered the gym. It was demon. Suikotsu laughed out into the gym and bellowed, “Come on! I’m right here!” His voice was completely different now, deeper, more sinister. 

Shippo’s knees weakened when he saw a demon of all-white appear as if by magic. He had a mask on his mouth, so Shippo wasn’t able to see much beyond the purple in his eyes. His stench reminded Shippo of rotted meat. It was disgusting, and Shippo wrinkled his nose. The rest of what happened was a flash, and Shippo tried so hard to follow what was happening. There were cracks and slaps that Shippo knew to be bones and punches. He glanced at the gymnasium floor and saw blood streaks and droplets. 

His mouth dried as he gaped continuously until he saw Suikotsu get slammed into the wood, splintering the very center of the court. Shippo clenched the metal of the bleachers and whimpered as Suikotsu didn’t get up. The nurse wasn’t poised in Shippo’s direct line of sight, but Shippo could tell that he was bent in ways that weren’t mean for a human man. The stranger looked about and inhaled deeply. That didn’t make sense. A metal mask like that had to be hard to breathe in, let alone smell through. 

Everything in him froze when those beady purple eyes landed on his bleacher. Shippo was still gaping, and he felt a strong urge in his stomach.  _ Move! _ Shippo didn’t stay put. He began running and whined when he heard the bend of metal behind him. The continuous manipulation of metal grated on his ear drums, but Shippo kept running. His little legs burned, and he felt a burst of energy spread from his chest to his body. Finally, he slipped from under the bleachers. Shippo saw the double doors and pushed through.

“Mommy!” yelled Shippo. His back tingled, and he knew that the stranger was closing in on him. What did he do to deserve this? Would he be obliterated into a pulp like the nurse? He wished his mom were there. He wished his uncles were there, too. They’d all know what to do. They’d all wipe the parking lot with this guy. “Mommy!”

Tears filled his eyes as he began breathing through his mouth. Crying and running were pinching his lungs, and just when he thought those claws were going to rip into his little body, a flash of white passed him over. A loud grunt pierced the air. Shippo stopped and turned around. 

There stood a figure he thought he’d never see again. A figure of elegance and heavenly hair. “P-Papa Sesshomaru?” uttered Shippo. Nevermind that his tongue was dry and that his body was pulsing with fading adrenaline and fatigue all at once. He took in the very same man whom he’d called his father for a few short years. 

Papa Sesshomaru snarled right in the demon’s masked face and snapped his neck with ease. His nails dug into the demon’s neck, and the body faded away into a bubbling nothing. Papa Sesshomaru glanced at Shippo over his shoulder, and Shippo felt time reverse to the morning he’d last seen him. It was as if nothing had changed.

“Papa Sesshomaru,” Shippo said again. He wasn’t sure what to do at first, but his little body hurtled forward and, with outstretched hands, hugged Papa Sesshomaru’s leg. He smelled the same, like sweet syrup and warm cinnamon. “Papa Sesshomaru! Papa Sesshomaru!” He repeated the name until he could barely talk.

The dog demon knelt down. His mokomoko wrapped around them both, and Shippo felt like a toddler again. “Shippo,” came his smooth response. The deep in his voice was relaxing. 

Shippo squeezed tighter but looked up at him, at Papa Sesshomaru. “Papa…” he said in his tired voice. His throat was raw now. He submitted to the other looking him over. Where had this man been? Didn’t he know what happened when he’d left? “Why… Why did you leave?” His sight was blinded by warmth, and his cheeks were hot again. “Didn’t you love us anymore?”

Papa Sesshomaru’s stoic face faded, and Shippo saw the side of this man that only his family had been privileged to see all those years ago. There was a pain in those golden eyes, the same ones Shippo had wanted to have when he’d been much smaller--to show that he’d been related to him, to show he had a justification to call Papa Sesshomaru his father. 

“Are y-you coming back?” asked Shippo. He wiped his eyes to get a better look at Papa Sesshomaru. He was hopeful, but another feeling was holding it back. It stirred in his chest and warmed his face. A moment like this was almost familiar.

“No,” said Papa Sesshomaru. He blinked. “Not now.”

Shippo should’ve felt something from that. The love should’ve returned. Papa Sesshomaru should’ve swept Shippo up his arms, just like he’d done when Shippo had been smaller, but this great dog demon didn’t do that. He remained on one knee. 

Papa Sesshomaru put a hand on Shippo’s head. The wail of sirens started from the south end of the neighborhood, and Sesshomaru glanced over before bringing his attention back to Shippo. 

Shippo put his hand on Papa Sesshomaru’s and asked again, “Why did you leave us?” He blinked away more tears to continue seeing those eyes. Those damned eyes! They’d promised so much, and wasn’t that just so familiar!

Papa Sesshomaru leaned in. His hair was much whiter up close, and the moon on his forehead was a saturated color that should’ve been beautiful. “Let’s keep this between us,” he said. His eyes glowed. “Don’t tell your mother.”

“Why?” asked Shippo almost immediately. He threw Papa Sesshomaru’s hand from his head and back away into the fluff of mokomoko. “Why should I?” His chest hurt. “Sh-She’s hurt more than me. Why sh-should I-I?” He couldn’t lie to his mother. In fact, he didn’t understand what was going on. “What’s happening! Why did you go? Why did mommy have to cry for so long?”

There was no smile on Papa Sesshomaru’s face; his lips remained calm, even though his irises swirled like chaotic lake waves. “I never stopped loving your mother.”

Shippo wanted to return to that hopeful feeling that budded earlier, but he couldn’t. Papa Sesshomaru was like his birth father and Mama Kikyo. Mama Kikyo was like his birth father and Sesshomaru. He realized he never had a chance to be bitter with Papa Sesshomaru.

No… Sesshomaru. He was like Kikyo like his birth father like Sesshomaru. 

“Say nothing, little Shippo,” Sesshomaru said with affection in his voice, but Shippo felt numb. The nickname no longer pulled him. “Make this promise to your father. I will come when the time is right.” Sesshomaru put his hand on Shippo’s head again before vanishing in a white light. 

All the warmth gone.

He wasn’t so small and naive anymore. Shippo was old enough to know that Sesshomaru wasn’t different. He wasn’t coming back. He probably never meant to stay the first time. Like his birth father and Kikyo, Sesshomaru had stirred his mother’s happiness and his own, and they’d all cast his mommy and himself aside as if they were nothing but collateral damage in a storm. 

For a moment, Shippo thought about the way he’d tell his mommy about Sesshomaru, but then he remembered. He remembered how she could only get out of bed to care for him. She’d been withering and clutching the then cold baby blankets. The nursery in their old apartment had been left alone, even when they’d moved. He’d remembered the cops that’d shaken their head and had his mother staring at the walls as if she’d find something, anything, there. Uncle Miroku had been around every day, and his grandmother had done the same. There’d been tears shed, and Shippo’d had his fair share. 

He clenched his fists. This isn’t a promise, thought Shippo. I never had a choice… He knew… He knew just what he did. He’s not relying on me as his son.

Shippo said nothing when Uncle Miroku arrived and picked him up in his arms, asking about his tail and the cops. He barely said anything when he pointed at the moose demons and watched Uncle Miroku beat the shit out of the moose demon father. The cops got involved and pulled Miroku off the demon, and Miroku had been threatened because of his past record. Apparently, those particular cops had known him. Shippo barely felt anything when he spotted Sesshomaru standing off on a rooftop, watching him. The reminder to remain silent, complicit, and loyal to _his_ _father_. That maple scent seemed so sour. 

Uncle Miroku’s sweat and heavy breaths broke everything apart with their musky combination. Uncle Miroku. Shippo didn’t have a father. He had uncles: Uncle Miroku, Uncle Koga, and Uncle Sota. 

What were fathers good for anyway? The thought left a bad taste in his mouth as Shippo stared Sesshomaru down. He tore his gaze away first and walked with his uncle to the car. 

Shippo just wanted to go home...and to destroy that fucking saxophone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are people cool if I reply to comments on here? I always reply to reviews on the fanfic site, so I feel really weird not doing that here. 
> 
> Thank you so much to the people who comment, follow, leave kudos, etc. on here! You all rock!! :D
> 
> Future chapters are going to be fun (*coughs* sadder maybe *coughs*). I'll certainly do my best.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> Hi all! This is my first chapter of Metal and Coffee. I hope that you enjoyed it. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I am excited to write more. I’m playing around with characters more in this story. Going to see where they go. You all should see another update in two weeks. I’m hoping to keep this schedule. 
> 
> Thoughts?
> 
> I’ll see you all in the next chapter.
> 
> Thanks,
> 
> W


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